#it’s the subtle way he cares for Grogu

[mando-abs]

It’s missing Din Djarin hours

[lux-ishii]

Episode 6 dropped and love is literally in the air... so let's dive in...

We start the episode with an interesting story of a Romeo and Juliette trope. Specifically, a Captain and a Calamari Prince fell in love and run away together, causing danger of war between their species by doing so.

You may think it has nothing to do with either Din or Bo, but if you read my previous post you already know everything is intentional.

They could put here anything, absolutely anything. A pirate, bounty hunter, escaped prisoner... But they put two lovers who with their actions could bring harm to others. It's not truly a happy story, as the woman said before her love confession:

You see, after rewatching previous seasons I noticed that The Mandoverse likes to foreshadow what will happen in one way or another. Mythosaur discovery was foreshadowed by The Armorer in The Book of Boba Fett, for example. So this story here could be a potential warning, or hint at what may happen to Bo and Din. A Princess with a fleet, and a man who isn't considered a true Mandalorian because of his origin (Axe's words). After this episode, I'm pretty sure that Din and Bo are already in love. However, they didn't take any on-screen action to solidify the things we see between the lines. I do believe their relationship will progress further, and...

They may reach the point where things get complicated just because of who they are. You see the lovers from this episode can foreshadow Bo's or Din's dilemma about what they should do for the greater good. They may fall apart if the cause of their interest won't align, or be on the way.

HOWEVER, it may also be used as a future contrast that despite these odds and differences, they would not give up on what they feel for each other. Which I think would go together with true Mandalorian nature. This season is all about what it means to be a true Mandalorian, which is not just a fight for power. It's about caring for one another, especially a family. Mandalorians are stronger together, after all.

More under the cut!

Can we take a moment to talk about how Din IS JUST THERE?

We were making theories if he will go with Bo or not when the show... literally treats them as one already. Whenever she goes, he goes, and vice versa. Without empty promises, they just do it.

And they "moved" to Bo's ship!

To dig into it further, this episode they were constantly walking side by side, to the point of going thru the doors together too if the space allowed it. You can check out this post >here< with more scenes

Glances.

As I mentioned in my previous posts, this form is a subtle tool for storytelling, yet it can hide a whole ton of meaning or can be truly innocent. This episode is full of glances, specifically put in interesting places and I will touch on those later.

Like this one is innocent, just saying "Where the hell we are?" without words.

I mention in the title of this post that "love is in the air" and here's another indication of it, a bizarre one to be sure as ex imperialist and a democrat fell in love despite their differences.

But... Grogu may be the biggest giveaway here:

We don't see Bo's or Din's reaction here at all, only the enthusiastic cooing of Grogu. I asked myself why? Because he matters too, as Din's son. Grogu could be excited about the couple and how happy they are together. He knows both Din and Bo struggle a lot, and they have dark, rather gloomy lives. What if his father was blessed with a love that would make him happy?

In this episode, we also have the first instance of someone recognizing Bo as a Mandalorian Royalty, despite the fact, there's technically nothing to rule for her. No planet, no people.

An indicator that for the outsiders she is still a rightful ruler, despite her own people not believing in her anymore.

Glances. She is not going to make this decision alone, looking for assurance in Din.

An then, at the mention of her ruling Mandalore again she responds with:

Bo doesn't want to rule Mandalore anymore. A theme that goes on since the beginning of the season. But I think just this episode we got a glimpse of the true reason why those plans truly changed.

We got a great sequence with Good Cop - Bad Cop trope. Bo and Din gave us some Detective AU right here, make it black and white and we get a whole Noir setup ready to launch...

But back to the topic. This was yet another example of how they complement each other. Bo's more soft and rational approach would lead to nowhere or would take way longer if not Din's aggressive and hostile take on the matter, and vice versa.

They aren't only a great team, they need each other.

Glances.

Bo for the first time saw the darker side of Din. We knew he had one, but she's pretty taken aback by his hatred of droids. Nonetheless, it doesn't make her fearful of him.

Quite the opposite in fact

as she becomes his voice of reason to hold his horses. She's not scared he would get back at her with this attitude at all.

They had a brief conversation about his hostility, and I'm glad they allowed Bo-Katan to remove her helmet because what Katee is doing with expressing her emotions is phenomenal.

This innocent sentence awakens a lot if you know where to look. And if not I will just show you.

Glances. After the droid, a machine that can outlast probably generations if maintained properly puts importance on human life, and how short it truly is Bo and Din look at each other, accompanied by a romantic melody.

Devil is in the details, as Bo took a deep breath before breaking contact with Din.

What does it mean? As per usual it can mean nothing, or it can mean a thing, and you know me already, I will talk about the thing. You never know when someone's words might hit you, and I think that droid hit Bo and Din pretty strongly. In this lifestyle, they both share, life is even more dangerous than the citizens of that planet. It's a constant battle for survival. Wars, monsters, your own kind... Everything can kill you if you are Mandalorian.

So they might think that there's no time to waste. An indicator that the actions may be taken soon. A way of saying "Life is short so we can as well live together".

The investigation is a success, DinBo detectives can be proud of themselves for solving the issue, and as they came back to the Duchess with the results, we are once again struck with something. The motives of a man responsible for malfunction have their core in his hatred for the ex-imperial husband of the Duchess. So Duchess Lizzo blesses us with this line:

You see, both Din and Bo have past. And those who know TCW know that Bo's past is terrible. She made huge mistakes when she was younger, and she pays for them to this day.

I don't have a gif here, but at this moment you can see how Bo is moved by the exchange of these words, and you can see it all over her face, as her gaze is running away somewhere else.

Lizzo then recognizes the efforts, Bo and Din made, which put a smile on Bo's face. A rare sign, but it only gets better.

You see, I think Bo-Katan is genuinely happy here because she did something good, and her efforts are recognized.

It's safe to say that back at Kalevala, she was severely depressed. Thinking of herself as a failure that caused the doom of her planet and everyone she loved. Everyone left her, no one cared for her, and she was all alone. Then Din needed her help, and from then she was on a streak of doing good. I'm pretty sure that if not for the helmet we would see her smiling similar way after rescuing Rengar. Here, she not only helped people but also secured an alliance with another planet, simply by doing good, with no corruption or violence needed.

Look how proud she is when Grogu becomes a knight! @ladyzirkonia Already noticed in her post >here< that Bo is happier than ever. And It's absolutely true! We haven't seen her as happy ever before. Not when she was getting a new addition to her fleet back in Season 2, or not even when the Armorer announced she is the one to unite them all.

This leads us adress to the bantha in the room...

Where something important happens.

You see, there were many theories that what Bo's doing with Din is just a long play to challenge him when he least expects it, but this disproved it. And later it gets even more interesting.

You see... Axe is accusing Bo of intentionally refusing to challenge Din. Which would mean her people demanded it from her at some point.

Her refusal could be what lead them to leave, claiming she's weak, not only as a leader but also as a warrior, probably thinking she's afraid of challenging him.

However, Bo's motive may be rooted somewhere else.

Bo-Katan had no problem challenging Axe for her fleet, so why would she struggle so much to challenge Din? It was as necessary as getting the fleet back, so what was stopping her?

But she really didn't have to kill him to claim the blade. We saw it as Din and Paz fought for the Darksaber, and Vizsla is still alive.

(gifs by @itberice) Do you remember what I said about love in the air? Now, look back at the Captain and the Prince from the beginning, and Duchess Lizzo and her ex-imperial husband. Do you notice the similarity?

Bo-Katan stands up in front of so-called Mandalorians, that are ready to outcast someone like Din, just because his blood is not Mandalorian enough. Just like Lizzo stood up against Commissioner in defense of her ex-imperial partner.

Again @ladyzirkonia made a great post >here< saying what I'm gonna mention.

This is a great sign of what kind of leader Bo is going to be. She walks both ways, she took her time to understand Din's perspective, and because of everything that happened, he is the one who showed her The Way. The right one.

He let her understand what it means to be Mandalorian, and it's not the blood, but the heart and faith of a warrior.

Din Djarin, with all his adventures, made Bo-Katan the person she is now. And she is really fond of him, to the point of standing in his defense, even if before she was among the people who laughed at him.

I know everyone has mixed feelings about the Darksaber, and I fully myself don't sit right with it either, BUT it happened, and I'm here to make surgery on the symbolism here.

I know a lot of people think if Din gave the Darksaber like that, make it look pointless...

But I beg to differ.

You see, the Darksaber for Din and Bo actually lost its value. For him, it was a burden, and for Bo-Katan a symbol of everything she lost. But for everyone else? It still was a symbol of power.

I may sound here like I'm trying to defend the outcome, but I rather like to think I'm just taking a different perspective on it.

Hear me out, the point of Din getting the Darksaber maybe never was to show him as a potential leader, but rather put him on his path with someone who will make his life... better.

The Darksaber is something that put Din and Bo-Katan on the same way. A catalyst for everything we saw this season. Nothing of it wouldn't happened if Din didn't have the Darksaber. Just think about it, if in season 2 Bo got the Darksaber from Gideon, she would have her fleet, and wouldn't rot in her sadness on Kalevala, so there would be no one to save Din on his way to redeem himself. Giving this one sample to just show how big of a butterfly effect we are dealing here with.

So as much as I don't like the way the Darksaber was claimed, I truly don't think it makes everything pointless. For me, quite the opposite really. It's the reason why everything we see is happening.

[forever-rogue]

Hello I was wondering if I can request something with Din Djarin? What about Din and Reader being in a "relationship" (the kind of relationship where they're definitely together but never spoke about it) and one day, Din has a rough day so he's particularly quiet. At night, when Reader goes to bed and Din joins her, she reminds him she's here if he needs anything because she noticed how off he'd been the entire day. Din grew used to being alone, to deal with his troubles alone but now that he knows her, that he knows what it's like to have someone who cares, he doesn't feel like handling whatever is troubling him alone. At the same time he's still quite shy in a way but he manages to ask if he could hold her. It would be very intimate, very sweet and for Din, being so close to his cyar'ika is more than enough to ground him and make him forget about his day. Feel free to change or add as many things as you want I just love the way you write for Din.

AN | Please, this concept is so sweet! Enjoy🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey,” you looked up from the vegetables you were chopping and Grogu was playing with as soon as you heard Din walk through the front door. A smile spread across your face as you took in the Mandalorian but you could sense that something was wrong immediately. The changes in his demeanor was always subtle but you could pick up on it almost instantly. He usually tried to keep himself grounded and even, effectively keeping the two of you unbothered, “what’s wrong?”

His momentary hesitation told you that your intuition had been right. He took off his boots and placed them by the front door, “nothing’s wrong.”

You were both well aware of the fact that he was lying but you decided not to push the issue. You wanted him to trust you and you figured that pushing him too much wasn’t the best idea. Letting him know you were there for him seemed like the better option. Instead you nodded and turned back to your chopping. Grogu made a small sound and looked at you in concern but you quickly scratched his ears in what you hoped was a sign of reassurance. 

After a few moments of somewhat tense silence you heard him walk towards the bedroom to change. The one thing you’d noticed early on was that Din didn’t raise his voice or argue often. But then again, neither you or Grogu ever gave him anything to be mad about. Still - he was a gentle, kind man that you adored endlessly. 

The two of you finished everything up for dinner, the soup finishing on the stuff and freshly baked bread cooling, along with dessert. You’d made his favorite dessert without even thinking about it. 

It was a while before Din made his re-appearance in the kitchen. He was freshly showered in and in clean, warm clothes, dark hair still wet and mussed. The worst part of all was how tired and run down he looked. 

“Hello there,” you whispered, almost taking a step closer to him but stopping yourself. You swallowed thickly and offered him a soft smile that he barely managed to muster up in return, “I hope you’re hungry…we made a lot.”

“It smells delicious cyar’ika,” the use of your pet name made a prickle of hope bubble in your stomach. Grogu had already padded his way over to him and was tugging on the bottom of his pants. Din reached down and picked him up, scratching his son’s ears as he babbled away happily. Grogu never failed to bring a smile to his - or anyone’s - face. 

“C’mon,” you nodded towards the table, “let’s sit down and eat. It’s been a long day.”

He made a small sound of agreement and moved towards the counter but you cut him off with a shake of your head. You reached up and touched his check, brushing your knuckles across his skin. You felt him lean slightly into your touch before he listened to your direction and sat down. 

You made quick work of grabbing bowls and getting everything dished up, sitting down across from Din.  He quietly thanked you before starting to eat, followed by Grogu gurgling happily. 

There was definitely still something bothering but at least things seemed better for the moment. You hoped he knew just how very much you loved him and just wanted to care for him…like he always did with you. You wanted to give back everything he always gave you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The rest of the evening went by in relative quiet. After dinner, the three of you cleaned up and then played with Grogu for a while. It wasn’t long before he was tired and ready for bed; Din took him to put him into bed and you decided not to interrupt, figuring that some alone time for them might be needed.

Instead, you busied yourself with cleaning around the small home before heading to bed yourself. Your mind was full with so many thoughts but they all somehow managed to lead back to him, him, him. 

You weren’t even entirely sure of the extent of your relationship or what you should even call it. It was definitely more than a casual friendship, but you weren’t quite sure what label would belong to it. He showed his face, something he had told you was only done for a child or spouse typically, so there had to be something there. You wouldn’t say you were dating, nor were you technically married. You shared a close bond, learning and healing through so many different experiences and traumas together, as well as an intimate one too. 

The two of you had shared many late night thoughts in the dark and had learned each other’s bodies and hearts at the same time. You knew you loved him and you hoped he knew it too. You were almost positive that he loved you as well, but you’d never put pressure on him to say it. You didn’t need him to - he displayed his love and care and compassion with everything he did. He was a kind, good, golden-hearted man - you would have done anything for him. 

You had gotten into bed and been there for a while, not quite asleep but not quite awake either. You heard his familiar footfalls coming down the hall and relaxed when you heard him come inside. You didn’t move or break the silence, and he slowly got into the bed, reaching for you as he so often did. You let him pull you towards his chest, snuggling into him and putting a hand on top of his. 

You felt his entire body relax and heard him sigh softly. Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles. 

“Din,” you whispered his name into the darkness like a prayer. He tightened his grasp on you ever so slightly before you felt some kisses pressed to your shoulder, “I don’t want to push or pry, but I just want you to know that you can tell me anything. I’m always here for you, however you need, and I am not going anywhere ever.”

A few beats of silence passed between the two, comfortable and pliant before he softly spoke, “I know.”

“I never want you to feel like you’re alone,” you promised, “but I am also not going to make you do anything at all that you don’t want to.”

“I was alone for a long time,” he replied softly, “before Grogu. Before you.” 

Your throat constricted and you wanted to say a thousand different things but you stopped yourself. This was his time and turn to speak and you didn’t want to interrupt him. 

"Sometimes it's easy to retreat into myself and keep things to myself," he explained, "instead of burdening you or anyone else with my problems."

You gently shuffled around in his hold so you were facing him. You laid your head on the pillow next to his and you could feel him watching you intently. A soft sound, a mix of exasperation and love escaped your lips as you traced your fingers along his jaw, “you are anything but a burden, Din. The people we love, they’re not burdens. I want to hear about your thoughts, feelings, and worries, so long as you would like to share them with me.”

“You love me?”

Oh. Oh. You hadn’t realized you’d said that little part out loud, even if it was all true. You hadn’t reached that part of your relationship just yet, but now it was all out in the open. There was no hiding from it. 

“Yes,” you whispered in response, stomach in knots as you tried to anticipate his response. When he did say anything for a few moments, you were almost positive you’d somehow messed it all up, “Din, I-I do. Love you. And I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable or makes whatever this is weird. But now you know…”

“I’ve known,” he promised softly, “you do everything with love, cyar’ika. I’ve been afraid in a way that if I admitted my feelings to you that somehow I’d walk up and realize that this was all a dream.”

“It’s even better than a dream, it’s real,” you smiled at him and you could slowly see the corners of his tug up, “and we’ll always be here for you.”

“It feels strange,” his anxious fingers were tracing aimless shapes into your skin as he mulled over his own thoughts, “knowing that you’re always going to be here. That I can just share anything with you.”

“Anything,” you reiterated firmly, but softly, “the good and the bad and everything in between. That’s what partners and families are for.”

“Yes,” he agreed quietly, “you’re right.”

"None of us are perfect at this," your voice grew even more tender and soft, "but it's all about learning and growing together. And that's what I want to do with you, Din. If that's what you want too."

"It is," the subtle bit of reassurance was all you needed to feel like you were melting into the pillow, "I do…I care for you very much. Even if I'm not the best at expressing that."

"You don't have to say it," he seemed so much lighter already, as if this was exactly what he needed to hear, "you always show us. That's enough - more than enough."

"Thank you," he reached for your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "for everything."

"There's nothing to thank me for. You do just as much for me, even if you don't see it. I do - I see who you are," you put your hand on his cheek and gently rested it there, "I see that you are a good, kind man with a heart that's always looking out for others. I want to do the same for you, I want to take care of you too."

"C'mere," his hand found your hip and he started pulling you closer to his warm body, "is this okay? Can I hold you?"

"Yes," you shuffled the rest of the way onto him so you were lying on top of him. There was faint morning light that was filtering in through the window, illuminating his face in a beautiful glow, "of course."

He grinned back at you, managing to look both calm and confident as well as boyish and shy. Unable to stop yourself, you leaned down and kissed him softly. His lips almost felt like your own personal heaven against yours. 

"Does it bother you?" His eyes were curious as he watched intently, "that we do not…have a label for this?"

"No," you laid your head on his chest and listened to the steady thumping of his heart, "I don't think we need a label for everything. We know what we are and that is all that matters."

“You are so…” he waved his hands around for a moment causing you to giggle softly.

“So large, crazy, wild?” you guessed and you could see the small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“Vast,” he answered after a moment of thoughtful contemplation, “everything.”

“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up at his sentiment as Din wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you to his body, “that’s…you’re incredibly vast to me too.”

You both knew exactly what each of you were saying without needing to go into further detail. You trailed your lips along his jaw and down his neck, and along his collarbone before sighing wistfully. 

“Are we okay, Din?” you asked as you ran his hand through his soft curls lightly scratching at his scalp, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” this time you believed. It seemed like the weight of the world was slowly lifted off his shoulders, “better now.”

“Good,” you whispered softly, “even if I don’t understand or you don’t want to tell me, I’m here for you. Even if it’s just a body to hold onto or just an ear to silence without comment. I’m here.”

“I know,” he pushed a lock of hair behind your ears, and ghosted his fingers along your jaw, “I’m here too. Always.”

“I know,” you echoed back at him, earning a small huff of laughter from him, “always.”

[orcasoul]

Warm or cold

Summery: You and Din work well together tracking and apprehending bounties but this one time it all goes wrong when you are put in mortal danger. Din makes him pay. No one hurts his Cyare!

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of smut, under 18's DNI, no use of Y/N, fluff.

"Let's split up. Well flank him and cut him off!" Din yelled through the dense forest. You immediately break off to the right while Din veers to the left. It would be so much easier for him to use his jet pack but the thick and overgrown vegetation makes manoeuvring at high speed almost impossible. Besides, it definitely makes for a more interesting hunt when you're both working together. He never imagined you'd take to the bounty hunter life so naturally and he enjoys seeing the reaction it draws from you; Excitement, fearlessness and determination. He has finally met his equal in this line of work and he is relishing every moment of it.

You don't know if it's because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins like high voltage or maybe you're just hyper perceptive in tense situations but the forest seems to radiate with energy and life as you relentlessly pursue the latest bounty. The sunlight dappling through the thick canopy crates a dancing array of light and contrasting shadows alike. The various native birds grace the air with their unique songs and tweets that you've never heard anywhere else and the bountiful mossy ground feels like a plush carpet under your boots. Any other time you would have taken a moment to stop and appreciate the picturesque woodland but now is not the time. You have a job to do and you intend to execute that job with everything you have within you.

*****

It took a long time to finally convince Din to allow you assist him on hunts, well, the less dangerous one's, anyway. For months you'd been Grogu's nanny and had cared for and nurtured him, and even took care of Din when he'd return from hunts with injuries, despite his usual insistence that he didn't need help. But every time you'd fought him on it until he realised you're just as stubborn as he is and it was easier after a few disagreements to just let you help. You loved caring for the little 'family' you'd all created. Even if you were a very unorthodox family, they were your family none the less. So when Grogu Left with Luke Skywalker to learn the ways of the force the separation broke your heart, carving out a Grogu shaped crevice that only your little green son could ever fill again.

You missed him terribly but took solace knowing he's safe, and that you and Din will see him again soon. It was the agonising impact of Grogu's departure that forced you and Din to finally admit your feelings for each other, after months of subtle flirting, gentle touches and lingering glances. You both felt the loss of your son, profoundly and realised how suddenly things can change, for better or for worse and neither of you wanted to waste anymore time secretly yearning for one another. The truth came out the same day Grogu left and you've been a couple ever since. In the early weeks of your relationship Din wouldn't even entertain the idea of you joining him on hunts. The very thought of you in any kind of danger made his chest tighten with anxiety and his palms sweaty.

He'd always felt protective of you when you'd became Grogu's nanny and now that you are his, his Cyare, his protectiveness had increased tenfold. He know's you can handle yourself in tense situations, how you've never shied away from confrontations, that you're a hell of a shot with a blaster and very adept at self defense. You'd explained to Din when you'd first met him, during an altercation on Tatooine involving some sleazebag (whom you'd beaten the shit out of) that your father was a trained guard for the senator Prince Tal Merrik of Kalevala and he'd insisted that you learn how to fight and defend yourself in an unforgiving galaxy. It was after a lengthy discussion that he knew he could trust you with Grogu's safety and offered you employment.

As time went on he saw the bond you two had formed and he knew you'd love and defend his foundling with every fibre of your being and you were well able for it. But the fact that you were now so insistent on helping him catch bounties made his gut twist. He knew you'd felt increasingly restless and useless without Grogu around to care for and being cooped up on the Crest for days on end did nothing to stimulate your mind. As much as Din would have liked to shroud you in bubble wrap and keep you on the ship where it's safe, he know's he can't expect you to just exist there and wait for his return, so with great reluctance he finally gave in as long as the bounties were low threat. And now this is your life, detaining bounty after bounty, working together in perfect tandem, watching each other's backs and revelling in the post hunt high you both got after every successful capture.

You had no idea that seeing you outsmart and overpower the targets would make Din absolutely feral for you. After your first successful capture Din couldn't get you back to the Razor Crest fast enough! As soon as the quarry was frozen and out of the way Din all but slammed you into the cold steel wall of the ship, (while cupping the back of your head for protection. So caring, even in his lust filled haze!) wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing his hardened length along your clothed pussy. "Maker, Meshla. Seeing you handle that man like that,..." Din's voice came out in awe, one hand roving to cup your breast and the other gripping your hip, "I have to have you, right now!!" "Hmm... liked what you saw did you?" you purred as you pulled the cowl down from around his neck and planted wet and slow kisses all over the exposed area of tanned skin. That night the stars Din made you see could have put actual stars to shame as he pulled out orgasm after orgasm from your trembling body. If you'd known this would be his reaction you'd have suggested this teamwork a lot sooner!

*****

Running through the tightly packed undergrowth seemed to slow the Nikto down a bit, giving you an advantage to gain some crucial ground on him. Ferns and low lying vegetation whipped at you face and shoulders as if nature felt bad for this guy and tried to give him a sporting chance. But the sting barely registers through buzz pulsing through your system. As you get closer the adrenaline and anticipation seems to give you a much needed boost of energy. Through the trees ahead you can see a cliff, meaning the Nikto will have to change course. You watch as he suddenly stops for a few moments, desperately looking around before he turns slightly to the right to run alongside the cliff edge. Those moments were all you needed, along with the adrenaline burst to slink off to the right and disappear into the trees, to come out in front of him and cut him off.

The look of surprise on the Nikto's face brought a smug sense of satisfaction to you, even though you kept a 'professional' expression. "I can bring you in warm... or I can bring you in cold," you cautioned in an authoritative tone while holding your blaster on him. "Hey, that's my line," a calm modulated voice sounded from behind the bounty, causing him to turn around in alarm and raise his hand in surrender. You playfully smirked and shrugged at Din. "I got here first, so I get to say it." A small chuckle escaped Din's modulator at your self satisfied comeback. Din can't help but feel proud of your tenacity and for a moment you can feel that pride emanating from him, like an invisible string connecting and bonding you both. Maybe you should have paid more attention to the Nikto than your lover. Had you done that, you would have seen his gaze snap to your feet and to the liana snaking around your foot and trailing all the way to him.

Before your mind could even register what was happening you were flat on your back, the wind knocked out of you and your ears ringing from the impact of your head hitting the ground. Amidst yelling and shuffling you feel yourself being yanked harshly to you feet by your hair, every follicle screaming for release, as you try desperately to make your attacker unhand you. "Owww!" you shriek while digging your nails into his fingers, feeling the wet sludge of his blood seeping under your fingernails, but his hold only tightens. "Shut the fuck up!" he screams into your ear, loud enough to physically hurt your eardrum. A cold, sharp prick at you neck causes your eyes to snap open in fear as you realise you now have a knife pressed to your carotid. Din stands just feet away, chest heaving, blaster drawn, eager to find it's target.

The instant he saw you fall his blood turned white hot with rage. His chest constricted and he leapt forward without even thinking about it. All that mattered in that moment was protecting you. But he didn't move fast enough. "Drop the blaster or the bitch dies!" the Nikto demanded, pressing the knife slightly harder at your throat, drawing a trickle of blood. Din immediately threw down his blaster, holding his hands out in a show of cooperation. "There's no way out of this," Din growled in a deadly manner as the Nikto looked around him with fear in his eyes. He moved closer to the edge of the cliff, dragging you with him. Din's feet instinctively moved forward as he saw how precariously close you were to the edge. "Stop!" the Nikto shouted, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Let her go and I won't kill you!" Din warned, his fury now radiating off of him, as if he could physically feel it bursting through his pores. How did the tables turn so quickly?

The look of terror in your eyes almost brought Din to his knees. He can't lose you, he won't! The Nikto seemed to frantically think through his options, the silence and uncertainty that came with it was intolerable. A few moments later he looked Din right in the T of his visor, a sickening smile spread across his face and a dark look in his eyes. "You can't catch us both, Mandalorian." And with that he flung you over the edge. "Noooo!!!" Din roared in sheer panic as he watched you being thrown like a rag doll into the open void below. The sound of your petrified scream will forever be rooted into his brain, torturing him in his subconsciousness. The Nikto sprinted off as Din launched himself over the cliff after you, igniting his jet pack.

The scream that tore from your throat is stolen by the brute force of rushing air, smothering you like an invisible blanket. Your limbs flail uselessly, reaching out and grabbing onto oxygen as if it could stop your downward plummet. You felt the urge to be sick as your stomach flipped and roiled as gravity claimed you, pushing you down faster and faster. Your eyes water furiously, the wind force whipping the tears across your temples and all the while you feel like your heart is going to explode from the insurmountable terror now consuming you. The ground is fast approaching, once small rocks becoming lager and more jagged the closer you get. If the wind wasn't already lashing at your eyes, you would have cried. The images of Din's helmet and Grogu's face flash before your eyes as you squeeze them closed and brace yourself for the bone shattering impact on the rocks below.....

Only the impact came from above, in the form of cold, hard Beskar and strong arms, tightly gripping your torso. In the literal blink of an eye ground began to get further away from you and your breath returned as you felt yourself ascend into the sky, the roar of thrusters replacing the wind howling past your ears. Still to frightened to fully realise what is happening you are twisted around, relief suddenly overwhelming you at the welcomed sight of Din's T-shaped visor. Your arms and legs automatically wind around his back and hips and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life! It was probably only minutes later (but it felt like an eternity) that Din carefully touched down, back on the cliff side. At first you don't hear Din's voice through your panicked breaths and the blood pulsating deafeningly through your ears. "Cyar'ika!... Cyar'ika, It's over, you're safe. I've got you, I've got you," Din whispered gently, over and over into your ear, one arm holding you against him and his other hand rubbing soothing circles across your shuddering back.

You remain locked onto Din's frame, muscles still frozen and rigid, too afraid to move, too afraid to open your eyes. It was only when Din cupped your cheek and slowly pulled your face away from his shoulder did you open your eyes and look once again at that helmet you've grown to love so much. "That's right, keep looking at me," Din coaxed. "You're okay now, you hear me. It's okay." "Din!!" you sobbed in both fear and relief. You buried your face back into the crook of his neck and wailed, gripping his cloak with shaking hands. Din brought his hand to the back of your head, caressing your hair with slow strokes. He consoled you while you let it all out. "It's okay. I'm so sorry, cyare. I'm so sorry," he mumbled over and over until your trembling ceased and the tears dried up. "Let's get you home," Din insisted as he tightened his grip with both hands around your waist and took off above the treeline.

*****

You breathed a sigh of relief as you both touched down beside the Razor Crest. It felt good to have your feet on solid ground again. With the adrenaline long gone you feel your body crashing. All you want to do now is rest. Din pressed the button on his vambrace to lower the ramp, wrapped his arm protectively over you shoulders and led you inside. The ramp hissed closed and Din scooped you up bridal style and delicately sat you on a crate. "Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked, worriedly as he slowly ran his hands over your whole body, checking meticulously for any sign of injuries. You gingerly shake your head 'no' while looking down into your lap. Seeing you look so broken brought a lump to Din's throat. He removed his gloves, wanting to feel your skin, but more importantly, wanting you to feel his. He hopes the warmth of his skin can help to sooth you, bring you back to the hear and now. His hands cup both of your cheeks and you quickly grab onto his wrists for comfort.

"Din I..." you shaking voice barely passed your lips, "I thought I was going to die," at that your tears spilled once more. "I was so scared. I thought I'd never see you and Grogu again." Din tipped your wobbling chin up to look at him while rubbing up and down your arm. "Hey..." consoled Din, "you're alive, you're home, you're with me, okay? I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," he promised as he pulled you into his chest-plate in a comforting embrace. "Thank you," you sniffled in a small and doleful voice. Din smiled in relief, knowing that you're here, safe and unharmed, after all it could have ended so differently. "Let's get some rest, Meshla. You need it after today." Once Din had removed all of his armour (except for his helmet) he led you by the hand to your shared cot. Exhaustion now wracks your body as you lay down on the soft mattress. Din turned the light off and slid down beside you, the familiar hiss of his helmet disengaging, filling the tiny room.

His tucks you under his arm and into his broad chest, soft and tender lips finding the crown of your head. You sigh as you feel every muscles relax under his silky kiss and you reach up to smooth a hand over his stubbly jaw. "I love you," you breathed, quietly, never wanting to leave Dins' warm and safe arm's for as long as you live. "I love you too, baby... so much," Din emphasised the last two words, holding you close and secure as you gave into enervation. You sleep deeply, while Din lays awake, furious, imagining all the ways he can make that Nikto pay for what he did. But he's not just angry with him though, he's angry with himself. He shouldn't have let himself get distracted, he should have been faster, he should have expected every eventuality. He won't ever make that mistake again.

*****

You wake to the sound of the ramp being lowered and an empty bed. Opening the door to the sleeping compartment, you squint at the early morning sunlight flooding into the cargo bay. It takes a moment for your vision to become accustomed to the bright light. Din walks up the ramp with the bounty draped over his shoulder. Once in the cargo hold Din unceremoniously throws him down head first onto the floor. His chest isn't moving and his face is a broken and bloody mess. You look up to meet Din's eyes behind his visor. Din just shrugged, tilting his helmet slightly to the side. "He chose cold the moment he put his hands on you," he said casually. You offer an understanding smile and nod. Of course you understand. You would have done the same thing for Din. You wait in the cockpit while Din freezes the dead body to stop it from smelling. Upon reaching the cockpit Din sits in the pilot seat. "I don't want you coming on any more hunts," he blurts out while turning to face you in the co-pilots' seat. "Din-" you begin to protest but he cuts you off, "You almost died!" his voice cracks and he grabs your hands. "I can't lose you," he cried almost frantically.

You take a deep breath, "Din, I can't just stay hidden away here forever. What else am I supposed to do?" Din doesn't respond so you continue, "We both know the dangers involved with this kind of work. There's always going to be a risk but we've had each other's backs so far. I'm alive because of you, so please don't take this away from me." Din knows you have a valid point and he can't expect you to just sit and wait for him for the rest of your lives, but at the same time he's terrified of losing you. "I'll make a deal with you," he ventured. Your eyebrows shoot up in intrigue. "Go on....," you smile. "We can still work together but I'll cuff the quarries from now on and if at any time I tell you to run, you run, no questions asked." You consider this deal for a moment. You know Din is always concerned for your safety and how against his better judgement he's willing to compromise, so the least you can do is meet him half way.

You hold out your hand and smile, "Deal." Din looks down at your outstretched hand and snaps his visor back up to meet your gaze. "Close your eyes," he says in a low, smooth voice. You grin and do as you're told. You hear a hiss and a clunk before Din pulls you into his body and kisses you passionately, licking into your mouth and drawing a moan from you. You pull away breathless, your eyes still closed. "I like how you seal a deal!," you gasp, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. "I can do more than that to seal the deal," he chuckles darkly, as he scoopes you over his shoulder and carries you effortlessly to the sleeping chamber, while you giggle and squirm in his grasp.

Thanks for reading. There's plenty more Din Djarin to come over the next year. Please check out my master list. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated.

[ladyzirkonia]

hi !! I hope you're well 💚

sorry if this is random but I need to scream this somewhere and i'm curious to hear what others have to say abt this aa

I gave myself the hope that the reason why Bo-Katan didn't seem to give too much of a reaction while she watched Din get captured was because she was holding herself back so Moff wouldn't know that she cares deeply abt Din and use that against her by hurt Din 😭

idk if I'm just delusional (I'm a sw fan so yes) or something waaah what are your thoughts abt this?

Su cuy'gar* my friend.

That's totally not a random question! In fact I was a little bit disappointed when I saw Bo-Katan's reaction as Din got captured. I found her reaction to Paz to be much stronger, but she also knew that he was certain to die. You could see her struggle because she probably vowed never to leave a Mandalorian behind again.

So I rewatched the whole scene for you, paying special attention to Bo-Katan's reaction. Unfortunately, she wears a helmet, which is why the analysis is of course a little more difficult like in the scenes where she's talking with Din without her helmet.

Din gets caught from Gideon's man, he tries to defend himself with the flame thrower and get's tied up. Right after you see first Paz and then Bo-Katan fire against the barrier.

Then she takes a step closer to the barrier, seems to pause for a fraction of a second. At that moment she is still lit by the light from Din's flamethrower. She hits the glass with the gun in her hand. A split second later, the screen wents dark. The perspective changes and we see Din fighting his opponents from her point of view. Then she hits the barrier again with her hand.

One must always remember that Bo-Katan is an incredibly experienced and skilled warrior. She has seen many people get hurt or die. It wouldn't suit her to panic or scream. But despite the helmet, you can tell that she is shocked for a split second. Viewers are only shown her and Grogu's reaction to Din's capture because those are the ones that count. She hits the barrier twice and later several times again when she is no longer in focus of camera, but you can see it when you look very closely. This reaction that is irrational and in due of desperation because she can't do anything about it. I think it's dramaturgically wonderful done that Bo is first lit up and shortly afterwards her ''face'' gets dark. Maybe also an indication how she's feeling in the inside.

After Gideon appeared, she initially stands there relatively rigidly, but during the course of Gideon's speech you notice that her posture is super tense, which culminates in her slightly desperate exclamation ''No!'' after Gideon sends off the Tie Fighters and Bombers. Din is taken away and Bo says in an almost slightly trembling and angry voice:

She responds to her likely rising panic with a threat. A relatively clear coping mechanism. She then threatens Gideon in a calmer and firmer voice to destroy him once and for all. And I'm pretty sure she will do.

I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed with her reaction when I first saw it. But I had to remind myself that she's not a silly schoolgirl. And after looking this scenes again I'm sure that she cares pretty much! You just have to look carefully. I love how subtle the whole season is over and over again and what an incredible talent Katee Sackhoff shows in bringing us closer to Bo's feelings.

And finally, I wanna show you of how Bo-Katan reacted in the second episode when she realized that Din Djarin was in danger:

And now just imagine what her face must have looked like when Din was captured after what they went through together.

Screenshots are mine. GIF's from @itberice, thank you!

This is the way!

*Su cuy'gar (Mando'a) = Hello (lit. you are still alive)

[writingforstraykids]

Din Djarin Masterlist🌹

Fluff: 🌹 / Angst: 💭 / Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Author: Moon 🌙/ Star✨/Saturn🪐/Venus💘

Work Count: 16

You got me flowers? (femReader)-💭🌹~🌙 Din’s in pain without you knowing any of it and snaps at you, leaving you hurt and confused. He does his best to make things better again and shows you the home he created for you.

You’re mine (femReader)-❤️‍🔥~🌙 After a malfunction of your hyperdrive Din and you have to go look for new parts on Tatooine. Once you realize there’ll be no good deal for the pair of you, you take matters into your own hand. Your subtle flirting doesn’t go unnoticed by Din and he makes sure you know how jealous it made him…

You feel like home to me, Din Djarin (femReader)-💭🌹~🌙 Din and you have been working together for a while without getting close, both thinking more about your feelings than acting on them. One day he saves your life and you finally realize he does care about you.

I’m glad it was you (maleReader)-💭🌹❤️‍🔥~🌙 You and Din have known each other for years but kept your distance, not daring to admit your feelings. When Din gets in touch with sex pollen he tries his best to resist you but soon realizes you’re up for the next step. There’s only one last hurdle for him to face; he has no idea what the hell he’s doing.

You have to let me in (femReader)-💭🌹~🌙  Din hurts himself with the darksaber and gets back to you at the ship; partly embarrassed, partly not wanting to worry you. So he tries to shut you out which leads to you getting hurt (not physically) and he lets you have your way

Die first (femReader)-💭~🌙 You left Din without a word four years ago and since then you’ve been playing hide and seek. Until one night Din stares right back at you and he doesn’t seem like he has forgiven you. You two decide to go on one last hunt together and soon find yourself working through the past. Will you still have a chance or will he push you away for good? And will you still claim you hate him or finally accept your true feelings for him?

You’re okay? (femReader)-💭🌹~🌙 You have the tendency to stress yourself out to the point of fainting due to your need to be perfect. All you want is to satisfy Din and finish your work on time and properly. Sometimes that leads to certain missteps that cause you to panic and still he’s there every single time to help you out.

Run (gnReader)-💭🌹❤️‍🔥~🌙  Din and you are on the run from bounty hunters, leaving you chasing through the streets at night all on your own. When he finds you he can’t keep his hands off you.

I told you not to fall for me (femReader)-💭🌹~🌙  To you Din is way more than the skilled bounty hunter everyone knows him as. The day you confess your feelings he doesn’t react how you hoped and pushes you away. An eventful day on Hoth presents your last chance to change his mind.

Please don't leave me as well series (femReader) - completed

Please don’t leave me as well-💭🌹~🌙 With Grogu leaving Din seems to change and you start feeling lonely. When you decide to leave he wins you back with a massive gesture. You’re safe with me-💭🌹~🌙 Din starts projecting his protective feelings for Grogu onto you; Something that isn’t always what you want, which leads to an argument. But then you get hurt, which changes things between the two of you. You’re my home cyar'ika-🌹❤️‍🔥~🌙 You get used to your romantic life with Din and his adoration for you surprises you every day. The day he is ready to kill someone to keep you safe he makes a confession and you both get closer than you have been before. My beautiful, brave Mandalorian-🌹❤️‍🔥~🌙 You and Din have your first time together, trusting each other enough to take that step now. The morning after you remember your shared night and the first time he told you his name all this time ago. Also yes, Din’s a dork, no matter if it’s in the past or present :) Darling, Sweetheart, Beloved-🌹❤️‍🔥~🌙 When Din doesn’t come back in time you decide to go and look for him. You find him hurt and drugged, having trouble recognizing you. Once you’ve dragged him back to the ship you take care of him and tell him how you knew he was the one for you.

You had me falling for you from the start-💭🌹~🌙 When Din doesn’t come back in time you decide to go and look for him. You find him hurt and drugged, having trouble recognizing you. Once you’ve dragged him back to the ship you take care of him and tell him how you knew he was the one for you. Din Djarin, why would I ever leave you?-🌹~🌙 Someone at a canteen bothers you about your past and Din makes sure they know you’re his. You proceed with a job, spending some quality time together. Din realizes you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with and asks you an important question.

[burnwater13]

Grogu touching the snout of Boba Fett's rancor. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Calendar by DataWorks.

Grogu never thought that he was going to be lucky enough to see a rancor, let alone touch one. But he had. Been lucky that is. Most people didn’t hope to get that close to the huge critter. Rancors were extremely large and very scary looking and weighed more than a land speeder. They were also carnivores. Yikes. 

Honestly, Grogu wasn’t really worried much about that last part. Sure, other people needed to worry about a rancor eating them or grabbing them with their huge hands, but not Grogu. If you think that’s just because he can use the Force and is very special because of that… you’d be correct. 

“Know your strengths and weaknesses, young Grogu, and you will make wise choices.” 

Obi-Wan Kenobi told him that and Grogu was grateful for the advice. It had served him well over the years. Grogu didn’t have to wonder if he should try and overpower the rancor with a fantastical feat of strength. That would be silly. Grogu wasn’t even half a meter tall. He was just over a third of a meter in height which meant that the rancor was easily 14 times as tall as he was! Fourteen! He couldn’t even put his arms all the way around one of the rancor’s digits. 

Nope. He couldn’t use strength. 

Then rancors were only sort of sentient. They were trainable. They mostly knew friend from foe. They were a lot like a very large barghest. And them imprinted on the first person or creature they saw. They would be devoted to that being and protect them at any cost.

Grogu had spent time reading up on rancors as part of his training at the Jedi Temple. The critters were originally from Dathomir, but had been found on other planets. They definitely weren’t native to Tatooine, but few of things on Tatooine were native species. He suppose that’s what happened when smugglers and gangs and other criminals made a place ‘home’. They brought things to that place that just didn’t belong there for one reason or another. 

But the lack of full sentience in rancors meant that Grogu couldn’t negotiate with the big critter. He couldn’t just smile and giggle and win them over. Nope. Rancors didn’t seem to care about things like that very much. 

That all meant that Grogu had to deal with the rancor using a different tool. One that he was reluctant to use right up to the point that he saw the huge critter try to bite his dad’s head. Thank goodness Din Djarin had been wearing his beskar helmet. While Grogu wasn’t typically a fan of his dad hiding his face, it really helped that day. 

The rancor attacking his dad meant that Grogu had to take firm action and it had to be decisive. But he didn’t want to see the critter hurt. Not like what happened with the mudhorn. He didn’t know the Mandalorian as well back then, but he really wished Din Djarin hadn’t felt the need to kill the critter and had just stunned it or something. The Force was not well served by diminishing the lives that supported it. 

That created a dilemma that Grogu had to be creative to deal with. He couldn’t just lift the rancor up and shake it and drop it. First, that just seemed mean and second, it would put him at substantial risk. Picking critters up required a lot of concentration and focus. One of those scorpan things could have hurt him or one of the Pykes, if any of them were still living. No. Grogu had to do something different. Something subtle. Something that the rancor would actually like. 

Grogu thought about his choices for a split second and remembered another saying that the Jedi Masters used from time to time at the Temple. “If all else fails, take a nap.”

Grogu couldn’t remember who said it, but one of them did and it was good advice. Sleep resolved a lot of problems. Not sure if you are really hungry or just bored? Take a nap. If you can’t fall asleep you are really hungry. Not sure if you should study more or go outside to play? Take a nap. If you fell asleep you didn’t have enough energy to do either thing. Need to deal with a rampaging rancor but you don’t want to hurt the critter? Use the Force to make it take a nap. Easy peasy!

Kind of. 

Not really. 

Yes, it was the best possible outcome. The critter stopped attacking his dad and didn’t threaten anyone else. It was obviously tired, scared and injured because the Pykes were mean and the Scorpan droids didn’t care who they fired at. So getting it to calm down, feel drowsy, forget the pain, and feel warm and secure and loved, which were big elements of using the Force to make a critter fall asleep, was a very complicated and delicate balance. That took a lot of focus, persistence, and compassion. And energy. A lot of energy.

That made Grogu’s next decision far easier than he imagined. The question had been should he run over to Peli and give her a hug and check on that tooth she lost, or should he run over to his dad and make sure his helmet hadn’t gotten dented by the rancor’s teeth. He made the only choice his training had prepared him to make. 

He took a nap. 

What was good for the rancor was good for the Grogu. It was as simple as that.

Grogu touching the snout of Boba Fett's rancor. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor.

[brujitaadinbo]

I continue with the dynamics of beautiful parallels with the same dynamics that Din and Bo katan have been managing or that usually have similar elements; If you already read my first post, I think you might like this one too.

“MANY TIMES WE FIND OUR DESTINY BY ROADS WE TRY NOT TO TAKE” IT IS AN ASSAULT FORCE THAT TRYES TO UNITE US INTO ONE, INCOMPREHENSIBLE AND INTANGIBLE BUT IT EXISTS AND CONTROLS EVERYTHING.

I write this to you because many times coincidences become factors that come together to give us the best moments or the worst situations of our lives and sometimes without lifting a single finger; I remember this iconic movie very fondly, because it was the favorite of a boy I used to date. It reminded me of this iconic couple "Trinity and Neo" and god, even their very names are a reference to such a strong connection, heavenly or call it what you want… a very strong connection.

and this is where you begin to see the very similar dynamics in these two couples that I am mentioning. Trinity and Neo felt such a strong attraction since they met that Neo was surprised by Trinity's abilities. Since Din and Bo met in Trask it was more than evident that they saw each other with great attraction and he also in a certain way felt attracted to the skills of this beautiful Mandalorian warrior.

Trinity and Neo complement each other, they take care of each other, in battle their synchronicity is noticeable, they worry about each other, Neo suffers when he foreshadows Trinity's death in his nightmares, he looks for a way to protect her. Coincidentally, these two Mandalorians support each other at first out of common interests, then on their own initiative, because they love it, they protect each other, they complement each other in battle, there is a synchronicity. Din sees Bo Katan distressed by the saber and the situation behind this weapon, for him it is worthless but he knows that it is for her, so in a very subtle and particular way, he manages to give it to her so that she can be the one who guide everyone.

In this last matrix movie (4), they definitely showed the importance of the love between Neo and Trinity how they merge with one another and become powerful. That they are unstoppable, that is why machines try to keep them at a considerable distance, it is such a strong and powerful connection, typical of humans, something that machines do not understand.

Din and Bo katan embark on an adventure together because of "destiny" itself that makes them redeem themselves and walk this path together. Bo Katan's words begin to resonate "Mandalorians are stronger together" Together they manage to reunite the tribes, take back their planet, free another planet, live adventures, educate Grogu, etc etc… the list is long. So, destiny is definitely something crucial in these matters. It's like that author who has fun with our lives, making them take 360 ​​degree turns or doing what he likes most with us. This is the way…

[mykingdomforasong]

For your mash-up challenge: DinLuke, Bookshop AU and Mutual Pining?

I love a good book shop au.

Rated G, alternating third person pov. Human Grogu (~2 y.o).

[prompt list]

~*~*~

The bookstore had become Luke's entire life. It was either take over Old Ben's bookshop or spend his days working on the farm. While Uncle Owen had high hopes Luke would turn into a farmer, it was just never in the cards for him.

Granted, Luke never thought that still living in his hometown at twenty-eight and running a small bookstore would be in his cards either. But his uncle's health and an unexpected line in Old Ben's will brought him back a few years ago.

It wasn't all bad. The town certainly had its charms. And the shop came with a Roomba and an orange cat. Those two were now, maybe, Luke's best friends.

On Tuesday nights, Luke ran a children's story time, where he'd read picture books to a semi-circle of local kids, serve fruit punch, and watch parents sit in comically small chairs.

Aunt Beru told him not to play favorites, but Grogu was a consistent face at story time, and with those big brown eyes, Luke couldn't help himself. He had a favorite.

And his perfectly regular looking dad who Luke had no feelings for at all did not contribute to Grogu's "favorite" status in the least.

Or at least that's what he said to Aunt Beru one night as they tossed paper cups into a Hefty bag.

He didn't tell her that Grogu's father, a kind man with an arm of tattoos and a two-year old made, Luke so out-of-his mind he thought he could run a marathon with no training or swim a mile in the Arctic ocean. That when he saw him every Tuesday at eight p.m, Luke had fantasies about the two of them laying in a sun-lit meadow while the Twilight soundtrack played. That he wanted to tear out his own hair, scream, or throw furniture at the sheer idea of Grogu outgrowing story time without warning.

"If you say so," she said. Luke knew she'd seen right through him.

~

Din was very careful not to flirt with people while they were at their place of work, but after months of Tuesday picture book readings, he wondered if he might be able to start being his own rules. (He's have to learn to flirt first, Fennec had told him. He always managed to be too subtle or come on too strong.)

The man was classically handsome, boyish and strong at the same time, just a whisper shorter than Din, but a little younger. During the Halloween story time, He'd come dressed as Captain America, and he'd been a hit with the kids and the parents. Although Din did his best to be polite, when he started proving his super strength by doing push ups, Din hid, suddenly deeply interested Pride and Prejudice.

Fennec spotted Luke once, and had promptly reported back to their friends that Din's crush was was out of Din's league.

"Or would be, if you didn't have the cute single dad thing going on."

"Grogu isn't an accessory I use to pick up guys."

"Maybe not, but he does that work anyway." She had a point.

Grogu was a great help when it came to breaking the ice, but the ice between him and Luke melted a long time ago.

"What's this week's pick?" Luke asked Grogu, reaching for the book Grogu had gripped tightly in his little baby fist.

"Dragons Don't Eat Tacos," Din said. Luke leaned over the counter with the scanner, barely getting it over the bar code. The register beeped.

Din had started coming to the bookstore out of necessity. Every week he and Grogu would come home from the library with stacks of books. But Grogu liked to put his favorites in his mouth and bite. Din worried the kid would give himself smallpox or bubonic plague. The librarians were worried that more of their books would come back with visible bite marks. So Din and Grogu made a deal. Which ever book was Grogu's favorite that week, they'd buy at the store, and that one Grogu could chew on all the way home.

Dragon's Don't Eat Tacos was in Grogu's mouth before Din could get the cash out of his wallet.

"Is it tasty?" Luke asked.

"It's his favorite snack," Din said.

Luke smiled and laughed, even though Din's joke hadn't been very funny. He felt the back of his neck get hot, and then his ears. He glanced behind him as Luke grabbed his receipt. No one was behind him. He could take a little more time.

"The reading tonight was great," he said.

"I've been practicing my phonics," Luke said, "I should be a level two reader any day."

Din didn't know how to get from this part to the usual exchange of phone numbers or making of plans. With sweat beading on his forehead, he blurted: "Your funny voices are getting better."

Luke smiled, a real smile, his eyes bright and the corners crinkled. "Thanks! Those I actually have been practicing."

Din didn't have to think of something to say next, because Grogu, a child who hardly spoke at all, picked that moment to announce to the both of them "I pooped!"

~

Luke showed Din to the bathroom before heading back to the children's corner to help his aunt with the clean up.

"I locked the front. You'll have to let Din out."

Luke checked his watch. They still had three minutes until their official 9p.m closing time.

"We can't lose a good customer to my ..." he drifted off, drowning his sentence in a cup of fruit punch.

"Your what, Luke?" She asked, playing dumb.

Luke just shrugged.

"I don't think giving that nice man your number would risk any business," she said, "but that's just my opinion."

~

Din apologized when Luke had to let him out of the store.

"Please, don't worry about it," Luke insisted. The air outside was cold, and Grogu was snuggling his head against Din's shoulder, his book between his teeth.

"Can you say goodnight to Mr. Skywalker?" Din said. Grogu waved, but seemed to have used the last of his words for the day on his announcement.

"By Grogu," Luke said. Luke didn't move, so neither did Din.

"Next week then?" Din asked.

"Next week." Luke gave him a thumbs up. Din did one back.

"Um ..."

"Well! Goodnight!" Luke said, stepping back inside and shutting the door behind him. Grogu waved at him through the glass. Luke waved back. Din gave another thumbs up. Luke did it back.

Din turned to go, but Grogu was still waving. When Din turned without Grogu's permission, Grogu shrieked, and the taco book fell from his mouth. Luke opened the door fast, picking it up off the pavement as it closed behind him.

"Do you want a new one?" He offered.

Din took the book back, his hand brushing Luke's in the exchange. "His bite marks are already all over it," Din said. "And I have wipes." He jostled the diaper bag on his shoulder.

"Right," Luke said. "Well, goodnight again."

"Goodnight again." Grogu was finally done waving, so Din thought was safe to turn around.

"Din!" Luke called. "Do you like coffee?"

"Yeah," he said. His heart raced as his mind started thinking up every possible follow up question that wasn't would you go out with me?

"The spot down the road is really good, if you'd want to go with me? Maybe this weekend?" Luke had his hands behind his back and was rocking on his heals as he spoke.

Din smiled in the wide and goofy way that was almost always reserved for Grogu. "Yeah, that'd be great!" Luke's smile matched Din's in that moment.

They exchanged numbers quickly, or tried to. Din noticed Luke's hands were trembling. He'd stepped outside without a jacket, and the weather was starting to get cold.

"There," Luke said, sending Din a text with his name.

"I'll call you," Din promised.

"Great, I look forward to it." They kept smiling at each other.

Luke turned away first, only to find a locked storefront. "Oh no," he said.

"Oh no," Din echoed when he realized.

"My aunt is in there, I'll just need to ... bang on all the windows until she notices." He rubbed his face before he started knocking.

"Want me to stick around until she lets you in?" Din offered.

"Please spare me the humiliation," Luke said, a chuckle in his voice. "No, please, don't feel like you need to stick around. She'll notice soon enough."

"Well, if she doesn't, you know ... call me," Din said.

"I will," he promised.

Din smiled and Grogu chewed all the way home.

[rise-my-angel]

Why the fuck does he care more about Mandalore then what he spent 2 seasons trying to get? Grogu or more specifically Grogus blood?

HE HAS GROGUS BLOOD WHY IS HE ON MANDALORE ACTING LIKE THE BIG BAD WHEN HE SHOULD BE OFF DOING LITERALLY ANYTHING HE SET OUT TO DO IN SEASON 1 AND 2.

I don't like this plot because it forces you to accept Moff Gideon is the mandalorians big bad. When in modern days they wete just in the way of his other goals.

Also him making his own suit is so fucking Iron Man 1 villian arc like Jons not even being subtle about the mcu inspiration.

Moff Gideon in season 2 didn't give a fuck about the mandalorians until Bo Katan showed up and gave him an opportunity to mock her for being a failure.

He is not the Mandalore big bad and this is just a character trait being forced on him because they failed to set up a new season antagonist so they have to bring an old one in to make up for it.

[morganwrites-starwars]

Time is a social construct pt. 12

Mandalorian Time Travel AU

Summary: Din is trying his best, ok? But between trying to find a teacher for his magic kid and learning there were other Mandalorians who follow a different creed, Din is very confused and lost. So when he ends up on a plant that his HUD says is Manda’yaim and encounters two teens on the run from a group of dar’mandas called Death Watch, Din figures he way as well help them. He never meant to adopt them. Or become Mand’alor.

A/N: Italics are spoken in Mando’a

Masterlist

<Back/Next>

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           No one was attacked in the middle of the night, and everyone looked relatively rested (Obi-wan seemed anxious but assured Din it wasn’t a Force feeling). Askhi met them in the morning outside the building, offering them directions to a nice place for breakfast. It was good (Din decided he would risk lifting his helmet to eat), and Grogu charmed the cook so much that they packed extra snacks and a lunch for their group. Din was marveling at the kindness they were being shown. In Din’s tribe, while they would do their best to care for orphaned kids, kids with adults with them wouldn’t just be given food for free. Food cost credits and Din was one of the only ways their tribe could get credits. He was a good bounty hunter, maybe one of the best in his time if he was feeling cocky, but the credits he made could only help his small tribe survive and no more.

         Askhi stopped them right before leaving, pulling a slim box out of the bag she had over her shoulder. She’d given it to Satine with a final remark: "So you can blend in better.”

         The box contained two vambraces, painted light green. Din took them to look them over as Satine gapped at the present.

         “They seem like training vambraces,” Din mused. “Durasteel, but can still take a hit.”

         “Why did she give me armor?” Satine asked, not sounding upset exactly. More baffled than anything.

         “To blend in,” Din repeated Askhi’s words blandly. It was a good idea, and Din had wanted to get Satine something from the start, but he didn’t have the credits. Also, there had been a 50/50 chance Satine threw them back at him.

         “We’re surrounded by Mandalorians who wear armor, Satine,” Obi-wan explained. “You’re the odd one out, which isn’t great for us. It’s a good idea. Besides, it’d be rude to reject Askhi’s gift.”

         Satine sputtered but quickly relented and strapped the vambraces on. Din was pleasantly surprised that she knew how to do it.

         “Now you look like a Mando’ad,” Din said as he sat on his speeder. Grogu was with him, the kid being extra clingy. Satine didn’t say anything in response, focused on examining her forearms.

         “Never thought I would wear armor,” she muttered. Din thought she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

         “It looks good on you,” Obi-wan said as he guided her to their speeder. Grogu poked his head up and cooed his agreement. “I like the colors.”

         “Light green for a lust for peace. Either we weren’t subtle enough, or Askhi is very perceptive,” Din said with a chuckle. “What do you think, Sat’ika?”

         “I- I like it,” Satine whispered, a hint of awe in her voice. “I-hm.”

         She went silent as she sat behind Obi-wan. Obi-wan put his helmet on and turned his comm on.

         “I think she’ll be ok,” Obi-wan said, probably able to feel Din’s worry. “Just a shock.”

         Din hummed, and then they were off. Trying to keep a conversation up, maybe to help distract Satine, Obi-wan asked about the meaning of different colors and why Din had never painted his.

         “Well,” Din said sheepishly, “I just haven’t had the chance. Paint is expensive, and going to markets is dangerous. Plus, it added a nice intimidation factor.”

         “When we get back to Sundari,” Satine spoke for the first time in nearly 30 minutes, “I can get you paint if you want it.”

         “I might take you up on that,” Din said, imagining what colors he’d use. Yellow, for his tribe. Maybe dark green, gray, or blue. Definitely some red for the Armorer. “Maybe you two can help me.”

         “That’d be fun,” Obi-wan said. “Maybe I can repaint this armor to something more fitting.”

         “Blue fits, but maybe some green would be nice. And brown,” Satine mused. Din was relieved that she seemed to have snapped out of her shock.

         Obi-wan and Satine chatted about various armor designs they’ve seen in the last few months. Satine never once brought up any New Mandalorian ideas on beskar’gam.

         “Can they make tiny armor?” Obi-wan mused. “Maybe Grogu would want some.”

         “Uh,” Din hesitated. “I don’t know. You get armor when preparing for your verd’gotten, roughly 14 for humans. I don’t know what that’d be for the kid.”

         Obi-wan hummed, and Din could imagine the way his face scrunched in thought. “Uh, probably 110ish?”

         Din hoped he would live long enough to see it, even if he was a feeble old man. “Well, maybe I can get the kid something protective anyway. For my sanity.”

         There was a bigger town they stopped at for lunch. They could see the dome of Sundari on the horizon. Reactions to Grogu were similar to the previous town, but since this town was bigger than that one, no one took particular notice of them. Obi-wan pointed out that more people were not wearing armor intermixed with the armored Mandos.

         Satine had inhaled sharply when she looked closer at them. “They're New Mandalorians,” she whispered.

         They all curiously watched a New Mandalorian human interact with an armored Mandalorian with a Mythosaur signet on their shoulder. They were both friendly and smiling as the armored Mando bought a piece of fruit from the stand. Neither seemed to carry animosity towards the other.

         “I’ve never seen a True Mandalorian interact so kindly with a New Mandalorian,” Satine said in awe. “I, I honestly didn’t know they could.”

         “Maybe things are different outside of the city,” Obi-wan suggested. “Less politics.”

         Satine smiled sadly as she watched a New Mandalorian parent introduce their shy child to a True Mandalorian, the child looking at them in awe. From what Din could tell, ‘True Mandalorian’ was an accurate, if simple, name. The True Mandalorian was kneeling in front of the child, the parent unconcerned. “I like it.”

         Din rested a hand on Satine’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s something you can try to bring to Sundari.”

         Satine didn’t say anything in response, but Din could see her taking everything in as they returned to their speeder. Din and Obi-wan were tense because as they got closer to Sundari, the risk of attack increased. The longer they weren’t attacked, the more Din tensed up.

         They stopped a klick away from the dome, hidden in the shadow of a rock formation. Obi-wan pulled his comm out and tried to contact his Master.

         “This might take a second,” Obi-wan said. “He’s not expecting me to call.”

         Din stood with Satine as she stared at the city. “Everything ok, Sat’ika?”        

         Satine was quiet for a moment. “I feel like a different person. So much has changed since I left.”

         “For worse?” Din asked as Grogu poked his head out to coo at Satine.

         “I-“ she paused and pursed her lips. “I don’t think so.”

         “Master!” Obi-wan's exclamation pulled Din and Satine’s attention.

         “Padawan?” a concerned voice, Master Jinn’s, sounded from the comm. “Is everything ok?”

         Obi-wan eyed Din and Grogu. “There was a, uh, unexpected complication.”

         “Are you ok? And the Duchess?”

         Obi-wan smiled. “Yes, Master, we are ok. Nothing bad happened. But, uh, we are about a klick from Sundari.”

         Jinn didn’t say anything for a minute. “Padawan?” Jinn said slowly. “Are you sure everything is ok? Because the Force is telling me something is up.”

         Obi-wan chuckled nervously, and Satine smirked at him. The girl took the comm and spoke. “Hello, Master Jinn. I hope everything is well?” 

         “Duchess,” Jinn greeted. “It is as well as it can be. Though I would not say it is safe enough for you to return.”

         “I’m afraid we felt this was the only option, due to the situation.”

         The sigh Jinn let out was something Din was familiar with. It was the exasperated sigh of a buir. It raised Din’s opinion of the Jedi slightly. “It is never a good thing when the both of you are being vague.”

         “We found two time travelers,” Obi-wan said, getting to the point. “A Mandalorian and a Jedi youngling from 50 years in the future. It’s, uh, not a good future.”

         Jinn didn’t respond for so long that they all shared concerned looks. Satine held the comm up to Din. “Uh,” Din said awkwardly, “hi,” Grogu added his own babble as his introduction.

         “Why do these things always happen to you, padawan?” Jinn asked tiredly. Obi-wan shrugged sheepishly.

         “To be fair, Sa-the Duchess and I weren’t doing anything that would cause time travel.”

         “Oh, yes, I’m sure,” Jinn muttered. The Jedi sighed again. “Send me your location; I will meet you there.”

         “Yes, Master,” Obi-wan chirped. “See you soon.”

         “Stay safe,” Jinn said before signing off.

         “That went well,” Din said. “You get into trouble often?”

         Obi-wan flushed. “Well, uh, maybe?”

         Satine giggled. “My favorite is the time with the gundarks-“

         “That was not my fault!” Obi-wan interjected. Grogu giggled at the teens’ antics. Obi-wan smiled at the kid. “I hope I can get a picture of Master Jinn’s face when he sees you, Gro’ika.”

         “I’ll take a picture with my helmet,” Din offered, much to the teens' enjoyment. Satine took off her headwrap and tried to arrange her hair into something more put together.

         “Do you think I should keep this on?” Obi-wan asked, looking at his armor.

         “Please,” Din said quickly, going gray at the thought of Obi-wan dancing around the Death Watch with only his lightsaber for protection.

         “You’ve earned it,” Satine said softly. “Besides, no one can fault you for wearing it after what we’ve been through.”

         Obi-wan nodded. “Yeah, ok.”

         Din heard the hum of an approaching vehicle. Din put his hand on his blaster and turned to cover Obi-wan and Satine.

         “It’s Master Jinn,” Obi-wan said, putting a hand on Din’s shoulder. “Remember, you promised to be nice.” Din hummed. “Din…”

         “Ok, fine, ad’ika,” Din sighed playfully. “I’ll be nice.”

         A speeder crested the nearest dune. Obi-wan stepped in front of their group, and the speeder stopped. The first thing Din noticed about the Jedi was his long hair. As the man exited the speeder, Din decided that Jinn looked about exactly what Din had imagined a Jedi would look like. Slightly scraggly with an air of mystique. He was also really tall.

         The Jedi approached Obi-wan, stopping and resting a hand on the teen’s shoulder, a smile on the man’s face. His eyes darted down for a quick look at Obi-wan's armor.

         “It is good to see you in good health, padawan,” Jinn greeted. Satine stepped up, and Jinn’s eyes moved to her, giving her vambraces a curious look. “And you too, Duchess.”

         Satine nodded at Jinn, and Din crossed his arms, drawing Jinn’s attention. The man’s face contorted hilariously, and Din quickly saved a screenshot of his HUD.

         “Master Yoda?” Jinn asked, losing his regal persona, confusion taking over. Grogu waved shyly at the Jedi.

         “Grogu,” Din corrected the Jedi, resting a hand against his son through the satchel. Jinn took in Din.

         “Huh,” Jinn said in a breath of air.

         “Yeah,” Obi-wan said sympathetically.

         “The future?”

         “Yeah, I know.”

         “Huh.”

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Masterlist

<Back/Next>

Mando'a translations:

Sat'ika- affection nickname for Satine beskar'gam- armor Gro'ika- affection nickname for Grogu

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: Star Wars: The Mandalorian (Season 3)

Honestly, I have mixed feelings about this season. The past 2 seasons were so well crafted and had a direction that ultimately met its amazing conclusion. That same quality of storytelling continues here in a strong opening, but something was truly off. The idea of it moving away from Grogu being the Mcguffin and on to reuniting the mandalorian clans was a great strategy. The problem I felt was that there were some serious logic problems when it came to the traditions and some inconsistencies involving the tech. I don't mind when a story decides to pivot and go off on a exploratory missions because that's what Star Wars does best. It just felt cheapened this season because of a few cameos that took me out of the story and could've been given to someone less popular. What I did love is the amount of political and underground spy games that were being played while the titular character was running around. I loved the subtle and straight up references to Star Wars: Rebels that made my heart flutter with joy. The majority of the characters we love return and many of them actually take on the heavy lifting of the story this time.

Pedro Pascal returns as the voice of the titular character Din Djarin/The Mandalorian and he delivers yet another strong and emotional performance. Din this time around was on a path of redemption and it was great to see him explore the more spiritual themes of the creed. I enjoyed the continued father son dynamic between him and Grogu. Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder's physical performances as Din were amazing as Brendan delivers that trademark swagger and Lateef knocks it out of the park with the many action sequences. Honestly both of them had an equal amount of action between them. All three of them make up this character and they deliver in spades. Din takes a bit of back seat this time around as we delve deeper into the other Mandalorians. Katee Sackoff continues to deliver a stellar performance that she started way back in The Clone Wars animated series. As Bo-Katan Kryze, she takes the lead as she comes to grips with her issues with the the creed, culture and you finally get an answer on how she lost the darksaber. I loved that she was seeking to find her place again and how she handles getting back to being the leader she was born to be. The chemistry between her and Din was a fun dynamic and I also liked the buddy cop aspect of their adventures. There is a illogical moment between them that really urked me and I wish it was handled way better when dealing with the ownership of the darksaber. Emily Swallow returns as the Armorer and I loved that she has stayed consistently mysterious about her past and devoted to the creed. The scenes between her and Bo-Katan were the best moments as you see the many comparisons between them. They are different sides of the same coin and I loved how they quickly realize that. The one and only Carl Weathers returns as the magnificent Greef Karga and I loved his jovial nature as the new High Magistrate of the planet Navarro. He may be more of the governor type that’s more friendly, but he stays as the great business man and badass that you don't want to cross. Omid Abtahi and Katy M. O' Brian return as Dr. Pershing and Elia Kane and I loved their episode. It showed how each character dealt with refugee life as a former Imperial officer and doctor. I loved that they finally got a taste of what the Empire forced many civilizations to live like. Omid did an amazing job showing the immense compassion the character has toward wanting to help the New Republic instead of condemning it. Giancarlo Esposito returns as Moff Gideon and he is even more pissed off and determined than ever. You get to the bottom of his ultimate goals and how he doesn't really care about the more expansive plans that other Imperial remnants have in store for the future. I love villains that have a goal and plan that is clean cut.

Although Ludwig Goransson didn’t compose this season, the reins were left in the hands of brilliant composer Joseph Shirley and he did an excellent job creating new and haunting themes that are easily identifiable. I did miss Ludwig's touch on the series, but Joseph did a great job never the less. I loved the sound of the N64 generation inspired theme for the "Coruscant Steet Fair" that has The Resistance theme playfully mixed into it. The very ethereal and then renaissance influenced "High Magistrate" piece was awesome and I could listen to that all day. The epic and somewhat gothic tone of "The Great Forge" plays toward the last half of the season and illuminates one of the best scenes of the entire season. Like I said, the pacing of the series felt off as the focus was shifted too many times. The adventure is always the highlight of Star Wars, but the central plot and tone of the series felt second hand instead of the forefront like the past seasons. We got to the point, but it was messy. I didn't like the cameo of 2 major stars as I felt the storyline with them had no real bearing on the overarching plot. There's a Blade Runner style chase that happens in that story that introduces something that would've changed the direction of The Clone Wars if a certain droid could move like it did. Even with all the problems, it ended on a good and somewhat rushed note. Will I be here for Season 4? Absolutely. Have my expectations been lowered for the future of this series? Yeah. All the references and cameos aside, this was a season that was fun in many ways, but it was missing that polish that the first 2 seasons had. Let me know what you thought of the season or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

[the-scandalorian]

Title: Stepwise Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: E, 18+ Word Count: 5.1k Warnings: explicit smut (fingering, blowjob, unprotected p-in-v, cum eating, cum play, mention of ass play), touch-starved Din, possessive Din, somewhat inexperienced Din, soft feelings, references to canon-typical violence Summary: Requests for both soft and smutty touch-starved head canons spiraled out of control and became this.

Din Djarin knows some touch.

He’s versed in violent touch, in touch made heavy by duty. He's comfortable with the tangled chaos of hand-to-hand combat, the brutal embrace of wrestling a quarry to the ground, the dead weight of a body slung over his shoulder, the strange intimacy of towing someone by their bound wrists from the moment of capture all the way to the carbonite chamber.

From those things, Din comes away bloodied and bruised. Exhausted. They're second nature—reflexive, at this point—but whether he likes it or not, each one takes something from him.

Soft touch—touch that restores and comforts and gives—has been scarce for so long that it’s mostly foreign to him. He knew it best as a child, before his commitment to untouchable beskar and an unbreakable code. He has memories of his mother sweeping his untidy hair off his forehead and of his father taking his small hands in his much larger ones to show Din how to plant a seedling without crushing the delicate green leaves. He remembers falling asleep snuggled under a thick red blanket, crickets chirping a muted chorus outside his window, the grounding weight of a hand rubbing up and down his back.

These distant memories start to feel much closer—and more tactile—when Grogu comes into his life. Staring down at a wailing, wriggling kid with no idea what to do, Din finds himself thinking back to his childhood, to his parents, out of necessity. And as those memories sharpen, little by little, affection slips into his interactions with the kid. Din shrugs off a pauldron to rock him to sleep or soothes his hiccuping cries with reassuring pats from an ungloved hand. These soft gestures make sense: they keep the kid calm, help him stay asleep longer…which means Din gets to sleep longer. They’re purely practical. So they become habit.

And, gradually, they become comfort. For Din. He feels better—quieter—when Grogu is settled in the crook of his elbow with three tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb.

You come into Din’s life at just the right time, at the exact moment of this subtle opening.

He takes you on as a hunting partner—he finds that he needs one after ten years of working alone. Apparently, raising a toddler is a full-time job. Your relationship as work associates lasts maybe two months, though. Care and attraction are almost impossible to keep private in a space as small as the Razor Crest. He’s taken by your smile and your strength, by the way you soften the sterile lines of his ship into something akin to home. You’re enamored with his duality: a tender heart cased in steel.

When Grogu leaves with the Jedi, it’s implicit that you’ll stay.

The rest should be simple.

But Din—the man you really want, not Mando or The Mandalorian—is armored in so many layers, both physical and emotional. You have to work towards intimacy in stages, in a stepwise function you feel your way through together.

One

In the beginning, Din flinches away from your friendly physical advances: twisting his shoulder out of your grasp, recoiling when you try to help him clean a smudge off his visor, retracting his hand when you reach for it. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to touch him—he wants that more than he thinks he’s supposed to—but he has to overcome decades of conditioning, of constant reinforcement that every touch is a threat. Defensive reflexes—survival and solitude—are woven into the branched network of his nervous system. It takes time to work them loose.

He’s trying though. As soon as he twitches his gloved hand away from yours, he lets out a tired sigh, rolls his shoulders, and reaches back over to rest his large palm over yours, intertwining your fingers and muttering a quiet sorry through the modulator.

One day at a time, his icy exterior thaws. He gets accustomed to having you in his orbit, and soon, he can’t remember what it’s like without you there. He’s so used to keeping everyone out of his radius, but he starts to feel off if you’re not in it. You weave yourself into the fabric of his life, and it feels so damn good for Din to be fully at ease around someone else—not always tensed and poised to react. It’s a novelty in his adult life: feeling more secure with company than alone, like he’d be off-kilter in your absence.

He stops flinching. He starts craving, gravitating.

Din’s body language shifts as he relaxes around you: his fists unclench, the tap of his restless fingers abates, his shoulders loosen, his spine loses that fighting-corps rigidity. He dozes without shutting himself in the privacy of his bunk. And—first subconsciously, then consciously—he starts to make a point of keeping you close at all times, within arm’s reach if either of you happen to reach out. Soon enough, that progresses to comfortable contact: sitting so near that his knee bumps yours, leaving a hand on your lower back as you walk side by side, enclosing your bare hand in his gloved one, sitting back-to-back while you eat, resting his helmet against your temple.

He blinks, and you’re the sun around which he revolves.

Din’s throat gets tight when you stand behind the pilot’s seat and wordlessly remove his pauldrons to massage the tension out of his shoulders. After a few blissful minutes of your thumbs working at his tight delts, his eyes can't focus on the flashing controls in front of him anymore, no matter how many times he tries to clear his vision. Everything goes hazy and warm, and he has just enough sense left to reach out and flick a few toggles to set the ship to autopilot. Then, he stops resisting. He lets his helmet thunk dully against the back of the seat and hums low and content when you work out a particularly stubborn knot—one he’s never quite able to reach himself. Sitting there, unwound and mellow under your attention, even the cold black void of space laid out before him feels golden.

After that, he stops wearing his armor around the Crest, and there’s one less layer between you.

Two

Din’s flight suit and his gloves are his second skin, a vital sensory organ. He’s worn some version of both since he was eleven years old. Shedding them—especially in front of another person—feels wrong. It’s not that he’s self conscious; it’s that he knows the world through them. So peeling them off feels like baring raw nerves.

He needs to go slow, and you understand.

He wants to go fast. You can tell by his heavy breathing, by his frustrated growls, by the things he tells you in that husky voice—rasped in a gruff murmur, his cold helmet tucked against your neck. He wants to strip bare and press his chest against yours—to undress you, lay you down, spread your knees, and sink inside your tight heat—but you both know that would be too much, too fast.

Like exposing someone with severe hypothermia to direct heat too quickly.

Dangerous.

So instead, you start with two fingertips, slipped between his glove and vambrace, while your foreheads meet in a Keldabe kiss. You stroke the sensitive skin there, and he shudders and caves, his shoulders rounding as he breathes through the initial sting of it—the shock—as if you’d slipped an ice cube up his sleeve.

When the feeling wanes into something sweet, he pulls his gloves off, letting them fall, forgotten, to the ground.

Gloves precede vambraces. His cape crumples to the floor by his feet. He shoves his sleeves up his forearms, exposing as much of himself as he can without actually undressing. Learning the feel of you without the barrier of leather and duraweave is more intense than he expected. He already knows the shape of you—the curves and valleys and ridges—but now he gets the textures and the temperatures: the softness of your skin, the tickle of your body hair, the warmth of your breath when you bring his knuckles up to your mouth to plant kisses on each one. He loves it all.

Whenever he can, he holds you with bare hands, like a lifeline. He burrows, his cold helmet buried between your shoulder and your ear. He breathes you in like spice. He adheres—sticks to you like beskar on a Mandalorian.

Din Djarin goes clingy.

He tries to make up for decades of asceticism in the span of weeks, days, minutes. The milliseconds between breaths. Maybe, he can paint over a lifetime of austerity and deprivation if he holds you close enough, often enough.

You help him out, pulling him into you every chance you get. There are sweet moments of whispered words and quiet comfort, and there are desperate moments of fumbling hands and shared body heat. Din gets painfully hard when you grab his suspenders and reel him in, your panted words leaving a smudge of fog on his visor, right over his mouth. He crowds you against the wall of the hull in return, dragging his bare hands up your clothed hips. He moans, long and low, when you reach up to ruck down his cowl and drag the flat of your tongue up the side of his neck. He's not proud of the sounds he makes, but he's too lost in the sensation to really care that he's panting audibly, his labored breath a staticky drag through the modulator.

Your mouth will be the end of him.

Three

It’s been weeks, and he’s ready. Skin on skin doesn’t burn anymore. No, now he lusts for it, aches for more.

Din sits down in the pilot’s seat and pulls you down into his lap. He starts to unwrap you—shucking your shirt off and running his warm, rough hands up the sides of your ribcage. He whines quietly—you think it’s a whine but it’s hard to tell through the subtle distortion of the modulator—when he palms the curves of your breasts, weighing them like he's memorizing exactly how they feel. What you know for sure is that he’s making sounds you’ve never heard him make outside of hunting: desperate little exhalations, as if he’s overexerted himself physically, as if he’s fighting for his life. He kneads your soft flesh, the black t of his visor glued to where his fingers sink generously into the give, where his calloused thumbs graze over your pert nipples.

He thinks he could cum like that, with you on his lap, your perfect tits in his hands.

He’s pretty close to being right.

Din completely loses it when you start grinding on his thigh, your breasts bouncing subtly as you ride your hips over his taut quad. He guides you back and forth with a bruising grip, encouraging your movements, urging you faster. He’s mesmerized, drunk… his hips jerk forward involuntarily when you reach down to palm his aching cock over his pants. You don’t do anything spectacular to it—too caught up in chasing your imminent orgasm—just keep your hand over him, tight and hot. 

Somehow, though, between the rhythmic movement of your body and the unrelenting pressure of your grip and the desperation of your whines, it’s enough. Before he even realizes it’s happening, he’s pressing the heel of his hand over yours, flexing his hips, and cumming in his pants like a fucking teenager. He’s too drowned in your lust-blown eyes and the way you moan oh fuck that’s so hot to be embarrassed. You keep your grip on the damp spot over his oversensitive, spent cock—clinging possessively—throw your head back, and fall apart too. The image of your face, jaw dropped open and eyes squeezed shut, will be seared into his memory forever.

Some time later, when you’ve both recovered and remember to start taking his clothes off, you discover something sweet. You ease his suspenders off his muscular shoulders then grasp the hem of his duraweave thermal to guide the thick fabric up, your fingertips ghosting over his skin, and Din makes a choked sound and leaps away from you. He's ticklish—of course someone so unused to touch would be hypersensitive.

At first, he doesn't like the sensation. It's itchy and weird, and the urge to wriggle and fidget makes him feel stupid and out of control—like a child. Slowly, though, he comes around to it: he sees the cute way you laugh and squirm away from him when he accidentally (…and then purposefully) tickles you. He considers the open way you welcome his touch, how good it feels that you trust him enough not to quell your natural reactions. He decides getting tickled isn't so bad and maybe white-knuckled composure isn't always a virtue.

He tells you his real name then, shedding another layer for you, letting the tight thread of his control go a little more slack.

“Din,” he says, “call me Din.”

Four

“Din,” you ask, “will you stay with me?”

So far, his bunk has been his sanctum, the one place you don’t follow. You haven’t questioned that boundary yet, haven’t asked for exception. But after all this time, he still pulls away from you when it’s time to sleep, and you’re starting to get tired of that, of sleeping alone just feet away from him.

He tilts his helmet—the proxy for a soft smile you know well by now. Apparently, he’s been waiting for you to ask.

Instead of staying with you, though, he takes your hand and leads you to the only place in the Crest you’ve never been. He’s dressed in only his thermal layer and his helmet, you in pajamas. You slide into the tight space, and he follows, shutting the door with a click once he’s shuffled all the way inside. For a long moment, you breathe together.

Then, there’s the sound of subtle movement and hiss, clink. Your heart jumps into your throat. You weren’t expecting this. 

With some difficulty, you find your way together, shifting closer without actually touching, waiting like two nervous teenagers for the other to initiate something. There’s been so much anticipation, so much build up for so long that it almost feels like your first kiss, too. It has all the significance of a first for both of you.

You start forward at the same time, sensing and mirroring each other’s movement, and it’s an awkward fumble to meet mouths. You readjust, scooting closer, but keep your own hands knotted safely in your lap—you’re waiting for his cue to touch his face.

He kisses you, and everything else in the galaxy evaporates. It’s a little clumsy. Eager and unpracticed. You like the sloppiness of it, though, how willing he is to submit to being out of his depth, something that doesn’t come easily to him. He searches blindly to find your hands and brings them up to his face. He asks you to know him. He lets you guide him.

The Mandalorian—the man of strength and competence and action—follows your lead.

You grip his stubbly jaw and slot your mouths deeper. His sharp nose nudges yours, your shallow breaths mingling together. The kiss intensifies, and his tongue tastes like desperation when it slides against yours. You rearrange, sinking onto your back and pulling him down on top of you, his long body settling over yours, his hips cradled between your thighs. You can feel the hard line of cock against your clothed core as you wrap your legs around him, and his hand slinks down your side, a slow drag over your stomach, to slip between your thighs, where your underwear is already damp.

“Show me,” he says, mouthing down your neck.

You guide his hand, showing him what you like—demonstrating just the right pressure and rhythm and touch. The trigger-calloused pad of his forefinger plays against your clit; the fingers of his left hand—the one that reloads the charges in his Amban rifle—grip the outside of your thigh, spreading you open wider, until your knee rests against the durasteel wall. Then, you gasp a plea, and two of those fingers sink inside you.

You’re close before you know it, so you reach down to fumble in the dark until you’ve worked his pants open and shoved his boxers down far enough to take his hard, leaking cock in your spit-slick hand. A series of frantic strokes, and you’re cumming at the same time—you clamping around his thrusting fingers, him spilling warm over your knuckles and dripping down onto your thigh.

Later, when you fall asleep together, he coils around you like a hungry snake, your limbs intertwined like climbing vines, his face tucked between your shoulder and your ear. Lying in the tight space, enveloped by him, his humid breath against your neck, you don’t need a blanket at all. You toss it somewhere down by your feet and soak up the heat he radiates like sunshine.

Weeks slip by in a haze of half torn-off clothes and desperate groping. Everywhere. In the shower. In the cockpit. In a grassy field. In his bunk. In the hull. In the middle of a forest. In a cantina bathroom.

You fog his head like a drug, and he gets a little reckless with his affection.

It’s only a matter of days before Din is able to make you cum with one hand and no feedback—aside from an arched back, dripping cunt, and needy sounds—from you. He gets addicted to sinking his fingers inside you. The warm, wet clench of your cunt. The eager heat of your mouth. Eventually, the tightness of your ass.

You learn him in return.

He knows it will be over fast when you sink to your knees in front of him and reach up for his belt, undoing the buckle and lowering the weapon-heavy leather to the ground carefully. He stands with uncertain hands fidgeting at his sides while you work open his pants to free his stiff cock. When you take him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, Din’s jaw immediately drops open in a pant, the chin of his helmet clinking against his chestplate as his head falls forward to watch you. 

He only lasts a few minutes with your wide, eager eyes looking up at him through fanned lashes, your mouth and hand working him up and down. His fists are clenched tight, and it takes all his self control not to thrust greedily down your throat. He watches spit drip down your wrist as you work the length of him that doesn’t fit into your mouth with tight strokes, your other hand cupping and rolling his balls. Then, with a choked warning, his helmet rocks back, and he's spurting hot and generous down your throat. A pained sound—a sound like raw relief—claws its way out of his chest as he flexes his hips forward in sloppy, stunted thrusts, his vision whiting out as he cums harder than he ever has in his life.

When Din pulls back, zipping his spent cock back into his pants, and looks down, he sees that he spilled past your lips and is dripping down your chin. The sight of it makes him groan. You catch a pearly drop on your thumb and push it back into your mouth, your eyes locked on his visor, and he reaches down to hold open the hinge of your jaw so he can see the rest of his spend glinting so pretty on your tongue. You know he likes it, that he’s watching intently—so you tilt your head back and stick it out further for him to admire. When you close your mouth and swallow all of it, suddenly, he’s half hard again, straining against his fly.

Five

On an otherwise unremarkable day, Din decides to take himself apart for you—fully, completely, in the light.

Actually, he asks you to do it. There’s something about your hands taking the place of his that feels right. A sign of trust. A surrender of control. In a way that feels equal parts good and disorienting. But that’s the beauty of you, isn’t it? How easily you reorient him.

It’s the first time he’s put his sense of self and safety into someone else’s hands so completely and willingly.

Months ago, it might have seemed odd to do it here, in the middle of the hull. But now, the sterile silver walls of the Razor Crest are home. Slowly, at his direction, you dismantle him: beskar, weapons, leather, duraweave, cotton…until all that’s left is his helmet. He’s breathing hard, and when you splay your hand over his left pec, you can feel the hummingbird trapped in his chest.

“It’s okay.”

“I know,” he says, his big hand covering yours.

He undresses you much more quickly, a flurry of warm hands until your clothes lie in a discarded pile on the floor. He doesn’t mention or reach for his helmet yet, and you know that means he needs time. So you count his scars in the meantime, tracing them with reverent fingertips. You already know you’re going to study their unique shapes and arrangements until you learn them by heart.

Here, on his soft, thick middle, a golden brown constellation, an echo of spattered shrapnel. On his quad, a decades-old archipelago painted in dull mauve—from a bad fall down a scree slope, before the beskar, he says. There, along his spine, a faded slash as long as your forearm. On his shoulder blade, a pearly white crescent moon with rose-petal pink puckered edges—a recent gift from a bounty. Still healing.

He offers what details he can remember of each, patient while you circle him.

It helps, you think, for him to have something to do.

As you run your hands over him and he acclimates to feeling so bare, the frantic beating of his heart gradually returns to normal. It picks up again when he reaches for your hands and brings them up to his helmet.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Din thinks about how often he’s had to wrestle someone off him to prevent them from forcibly removing his helmet. All the times an enemy has spit some version of the same venomous threat—let’s see your eyes, Mando—at him. When he’s had to snap a wrist or shatter a jaw to stop someone from revealing his face. How, over and over again, he has had to fight to keep a stranger from making this decision for him. And how this is the exact opposite, finally on his terms.

He nods.

You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows thickly, and you think you know why he’s not speaking. He presses the release and leans down momentarily as you ease the beskar up and off his head, letting it hang heavily by your side as you take him in.

Sharp jaw with patchy salt-and-pepper stubble. Lips—a pink, kissable bow—sweeter looking than you were expecting. A sharp nose you know by feel. Brown eyes, warm and soft—right now, they’re shifting uncomfortably, like he doesn’t know where to settle his gaze, like you’re a too-bright light he can’t look at directly.

You reach out for his hand with your free one, and he meets your eyes steadily for the first time, letting out a long exhale. You’re so distracted that the slick metal of his helmet slips from between the fingers of your other hand, and it clangs loudly against the floor, reverberating in the echoing space.

“Shit—sorry!” you squeak, bending to snatch it back up and examine it closely for damage. “I think it’s okay.”

You look up at his face, and he’s smiling, an endearing dimple appearing on one cheek.

Adorable. Kissable.

“It’s beskar,” he says with a low chuckle. “If anything, it dented the floor.”

He takes his helmet from you and sets it on a crate behind him then grabs hold of both of your hands and pulls you with him toward the bunk. He climbs in first, and you clamber in after, crawling up the length of his body until you’re perched on your knees, straddling his thighs.

Other than an encouraging nod, he stays still, his breathing slow and steady, when you reach up to touch his face. The pads of your fingers scale the slopes of his cheekbones, trace the furrowed ridge of his brow, and descend the strong curve of his nose. You sweep your fingers through the tickle of his mustache and back up to smooth the concerned lines that deepen in his forehead.

Din only has one memory to parallel this sensation: he can’t help but think of his mother and her long, gentle fingers brushing his hair back, how she’d let her palm follow a crescent moon downward to cup his cheek. She’d smile at him for a moment—a moment that always felt so long when he was wriggling with energy—before she’d release him to go outside to play or do his chores.

You watch Din’s expression shift, and you can tell he’s slipped off to somewhere else entirely.

When you pull your hands back, he meets your eyes, blinks, and looks away again, the feeling of exposure suddenly unbearable. You notice the water collecting at the corners of his eyes, so you shuffle down into a prone position and rest your head on his chest. One of his palms cradles the back of your neck, the other finding a home on the small of your back, holding you in place. As if you’d move.

Another time, soon, he’ll tell you about his mother. And his father. Everything.

When you peek up at him a few minutes later to make sure he’s okay, he looks calm. One stray tear has escaped his eyelashes and is making a slow path down his temple. You lean up to catch it with a quick kiss before settling back down on his chest. He squeezes you tight.

You stay like that for a long time, until Din steps out of his memories and returns to you fully.

When he's ready, he pulls you up and kisses you in a desperate, consuming way that makes tears collect at the corners of your eyes. There’s barely any build up: seconds pass, your mouths locked together, and what starts sweet goes hungry.

His hand slips down your body to work concentrated circles over your clit, and your thighs automatically part for him. His hardening cock is aching and smearing precum against your thigh. When his hand moves lower and he eases two fingers inside your already wet pussy, you reach down and stop him.

“Need to feel you inside me,” you pant into his neck. “Please, Din.”

You can see from the naked relief on his face that he’s as desperate as you are. He doesn’t say anything, just grunts as he adjusts. He positions himself over you and works the fat head of his cock inside you slowly, your pussy slick and welcoming, like it was made for him. His forehead rests heavy and warm against yours—a familiar gesture that feels completely different without the cold bite of beskar between you. You whine at the stretch of him, tilting your hips to chase the pleasure laced with a thread of pain. When his hips meet yours, he bites back a curse.

Neither of you is going to last. From the start, Din’s thrusts are stuttering and uncontrolled, his eyes squeezed shut. He opens them to find one of your hands and move it down to where you’re joined.

“Touch-touch yourself for me, mesh’la. Make yourself cum while I’m inside you.”

He forces himself to keep his eyes open to watch you fall apart, his hips a constant slap against yours. It takes everything in him not to cum when you clench around him and moan his name. He holds tight to his last remaining vestige of control and stills inside to let you ride it out.

You open your eyes during the aftershocks, and when Din meets your eyes, a word sears through his chest, itches at the back of his throat, struggles against the cage of his bared teeth: mine. He wants to say it. He likes the claim of it, the implied permanence. Din has never had much to call his own, and that hasn’t ever bothered him. Until now. Until you.

Instead of running the risk of scaring you off with something so possessive, he drops himself over you again to resume thrusting, your foreheads bumping together, the bridge of his nose sliding against yours, and offers you something.

“I’m yours.”

You pull in a sharp breath. Both of your hands find the nape of his neck, and you guide his mouth to yours. He likes the hungry press of your tongue, returns it in full.

“And I’m yours,” you whisper back, your words hot against his lips.

It comes out as a growl when he does say it, torn from his throat as he cums, his head thrown back and lip pulled up in a snarl: “Mine.”

You gasp through his last desperate thrusts, strung out on the feeling of his warmth spreading inside you. He pulls out too quickly for your liking, shuffling backward on his knees, and you whimper. But the naked intensity on his face silences your protest, and he grips your thighs and pushes them apart roughly.

“Wanna see—” he rasps.

He dips his head to watch his spend drip out of your abused cunt, and his eyes darken and brim with lust, like storm clouds crowding a night sky. He collects it carefully and pushes it back inside you with two fingers.

Once turns into twice—you sink down onto him while he’s still leaking out of you, riding him until he’s filling you again. Then you collapse onto his chest, exhausted and sweaty and sated.

He shivers when you reach up to comb your fingers through his hair and lightly scratch his scalp—a pleasant tingle running down his spine. Eventually your tired hands still, you nestle your face further into the crook of his neck, and moments later, your breathing evens out. You fall asleep like that, your body warm and relaxed on top of his, his spent cock still inside you.

Din is so used to the weight of his beskar—of his Creed and his obligations—that without it, he sometimes feels like he might float away or fade into nothing. Dissolve into a froth of atoms, dissipate into the void. Leave only the negative space of his memories. All at once, nothing.

But, with you?

With you spread out on top of him, your reassuring weight an anchor, he thinks he might be okay.

[kyberblade]

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 4

A/N: We only made it inside the city limits of Mos Pelgo! I know this is a slow burn but! Oh well. (Also, these two are idiots. Said affectionately.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes right to the first part of episode 2x1/9, The Marshal.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Cobb Vanth is…. Himself. (Um, not to spoil anything, but there’s a pretty typical fanfic trope and Din specific trope in this one, and I wasn’t subtle about either. Do with that what you will.) And I think like one swear word.

Word count: 5,385

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar​ for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

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Xxx

Din’s POV

Din watched you as you slept.

Your face wrinkled like you ate something sour before immediately relaxing back to blissful rest. Your lips moved as if forming words, but no sound came out, and your eyebrows traded off rising up one at a time before knitting together in something like confusion, then it all went back to simple rest.

He let out a huff of laughter through his helmet, careful not to let it wake you.

Looking down to where the kid lay in your lap, still fighting sleep, big eyes blinking heavily, he reached out his free hand and lightly touched the end of his ear. “I know. I like having her here, too.”

He didn’t really know what he was doing, in general and right now, but he knew it felt like the right thing to do. So he settled into the rock at his back, pulled you closer to his chest, and sighed when you buried your face deeper into his neck in your sleep.

He’d been on his own a long time. He was used to it. It worked.

But now he was beginning to think that maybe some company wasn’t so bad.

Xxx

Normal POV

The next morning you’re woken while the stars are still shining, the faintest sliver of sunlight just starting to paint the horizon a different shade.

Stretching with a yawn, it takes you a second after to realize you’re still in Din’s lap. Turning your face up toward his, you’re met with his visor already tilted down towards you, meer inches from you.

“Good morning,” you squeaked, searching for his eyes futilely.

“Good morning.” His voice was soft through the modulator, and he let out a sigh as he stretched, the arm still around your torso pulling you in close as he did. “Sorry, I had to wake you up early. We need to get going before the suns get too high.”

He relaxed back into his seat, but his grip on you remained tight, keeping your side close to his chest.

Looking around, you narrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Where’s the kid?” Your voice was scratchy from lack of use.

“I put him in the satchel shortly after he fell asleep.”

“Ah, smart,” you nodded once, hand coming up to rub one eye still bleary with sleep. “That way we know where he is, the little trouble maker.”

He chuckled. “That, and I figured you might sleep better without having to worry about him.”

You let your arm fall slowly down to your lap as you looked up toward his visor again.

“You were really tired after shooting and everything, and I wanted to make sure you got your rest.” You smiled faintly up at him, and he seemed to add almost as an afterthought, “We have a lot to do today.”

You nodded. “How far are we from Mos Pelgo?”

“Should only be a few hours. If we leave in the next hour, we should be able to make it before it gets too hot.”

Nodding again, you paused a moment before awkwardly turning his direction just a little bit, putting your hands on his chest. “Um,” you stared at his cuirass between your palms, “I guess I’ll just….” You moved your hands out an inch or so before moving them back closer together, then up towards his shoulders, tilting your head to the side, your face screwing up a bit in embarrassment. “I’m gonna….” Lightly pushing away from him, you tried to get to your feet in the least awkward way possible from your seated position. It wasn’t working. “Yeah.” You chuckled.

Finally making it to your feet, you stumbled to the side just a bit before stabilizing yourself and offering a hand out to help him up. “Thank you. For everything. I mean, I know teaching me to shoot was mainly a practicality so you have one less thing to worry about, but still. I appreciate it. And for the, uh….” You pointed down where the two of you had been sitting not seconds ago. “For letting me sleep.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice was nothing but sincere.

You realized you’d been keeping a hold on his hand after helping him up, lingering much too long, so you quickly dropped it, shoving your hands in your pockets. It wasn’t until he went to start loading the speeder that it dawned on you, he hadn’t let go either.

Xxx

The sunrise had been magnificent to see, every bit as much worth it as the sunset the night before.

Din sat behind you once again and drove, allowing you to take in the scenery, or so he said. Really, you hadn’t missed his evasive tone when he had said he wanted you to relax after last night. Your driving still terrified him, but you didn’t care.

As the three of you pulled into Mos Pelgo, you pulled your goggles down around your neck, taking in the town with clear eyes. It was sparsely populated, a citizen here and there, and none of them smiled as they watched you pass by slowly atop the speeder. Happiness seemed to be in as short supply as the town folk here. People of all ages, from young to old stood in doorways or were tinkering with machinery. Even the sight of the kid didn’t make them smile, and that was saying something.

“It’s too quiet,” Din muttered behind you, looking all around as well.

“Don’t Mandalorian’s like the quiet?” You asked.

“Quiet, yes. This is silence.”

Pulling up in front of a row of buildings near the end, Din stopped the speeder before hopping off. “Stay here,” he spoke quietly, keeping in tone with the surroundings. “Keep an eye on the kid.”

You nodded. “Okay. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go ask in the Cantina for some info.”

You smiled. “Fine. Just don’t bring back another passenger, your ship can’t hold anyone else.” He tilted his head in question at you. “I know you have a thing for befriending bartenders.”

He let out a scoff that quickly melted into a soft laugh. “A bartender, one.” He held up a single finger.

“You never know,” you teased.

“I do,” he stared at you for a moment before turning toward the cantina. “Shouldn’t take long.”

Leaning back against the speeder next to where the kid sat perched in his satchel seat, you surveyed the town again, arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t know. Something just isn’t sitting right with me. What do you think, kid? ….Kid?” You looked down to see him missing from his spot, and you quickly stood upright, arms falling to your sides. How long had he been gone? “Kid?” You said a little louder, spinning in a circle looking for him. You turned past him, doing a double take when you realized and spinning back where you saw him in the doorway you had seen Din walk into moments before.

“Get back here!” You hissed, looking both ways down the street before darting across in case of some joyrider screaming past. You narrowed your eyes when you noticed a cloud of sand kicking up in the distance, looming almost, and you stopped to stare at it, reaching out to see if you could sense any imminent danger. You only felt another life force, granted it was huge, but it wasn’t seemingly dangerous, per say. Shaking your head, you left that debate for another day, turning back to the cantina to find the kid no longer in the doorway, and you dashed up the steps.

“Kid!” You whispered, though it was strangled as you tried not to shout, peeking around the corner and finding him standing next to a spittoon by the doorway. Letting out a sigh of relief, you collapsed against the archway, leaning your shoulder against the rough stone, your head tilting to rest against it as well.

Taking in your surroundings as you caught your breath, you saw Din staring down a man at a table who had two glasses in front of him, a bottle of spotchka, and a Mandalorian helmet sitting next to it all. Your eyes went wide and you straightened as you realized what was going on.

“Are we going to do this in front of the kid?” The man asked. He looked kind, all things considered.

“He’s seen worse.” You wanted to let out a snort of laughter at Din’s words, but you just settled for a subtle eye roll.

“And what about your girl?” One corner of the man’s mouth lifted in a smirk as he looked your way, winking slyly.

You almost choked on your own spit.

“She’s not your concern,” Din said dryly after a moment.

The corner of the man’s mouth pulled up just slightly again before fading to a thin line. He sighed. “Right here then?”

“Right here.”

The man got to his feet, both he and Din standing loosely, fingers dancing near their blasters as they prepared to draw. You were about to go over and intervene, or at least finally say something, when the whole building began to shake, and you sensed that presence from earlier looming closer and closer.

The man pulled a face, almost grimacing, before holding up one finger, and walking over to the doorway, past you and out onto the porch. Din was hot on his heels, stepping around you to stand beside the man and in front of you, between whatever was going on and yourself.

Peeking around his shoulder, hand gripping his cape tightly, you saw the cloud of dust growing larger quickly. Everything was shaking, almost like an earthquake, and you watched the sand roll and move like water as whatever passed underneath went through the middle of town.

You felt a surge, and your eyes were drawn to a lone Bantha on the edge of town. “No,” you whispered, vaguely registering Din turning his head your way for just a second before looking back to what was going on.

Suddenly, a giant creature shot up and ate the unsuspecting Batha before disappearing into the desert.

“Maybe we can work something out,” the man said from beside you, both he and Din staring after the long gone creature.

“I’ll grab the kid,” you muttered, seeing Din nod once in front of you before turning and making your way back into the cantina.

You smile when you see the tips of two green ears sticking out of the top of the spittoon. “I wonder where he is….” You say playfully, smile only growing when the top of his head down to his nose pops up out over the edge as well, and he lets out a coo that echoes inside his hiding place.

Xxx

It wasn’t a fair deal to you. “Here, please kill this giant kryat dragon for us and I’ll give you the armor back”. But Din didn’t even blink at the proposition. Figuratively. You had no idea because of the helmet, you thought with a gentle shake of your head.

And not only that, he couldn’t use his ship. Again. But luckily you at least had a guide this time, the man - who introduced himself as Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo - knew where it lived.

“Where?” Din questioned.

“Not far,” was all Cobb said, his tone aloof and it made you skeptical. “We’ll leave at first light. The suns are too high now, it’ll be too hot. Until then, I’m sure you’re both tired from your journey these last few days. I’ll have someone throw somethin’ together for ya. Won’t be much, but it’ll be a place to lay your head tonight.”

Xxx

Walking into the small little hut provided by the Marshal, you and Din both froze, the kid squeaking an ‘eh?’ as he looked up to you in question from where he rested in your arms.

It was a modest size, a small living area with a table and humble sitting space, a tiny but usable kitchen in the corner, a refresher over to the side that looked like maybe one person standing up at all times would fit, and lastly, through an open doorway, an actually decently sized bedroom.

But none of that was the problem. No, what made you both freeze was the sight of only one bed through the open bedroom door.

It looked big enough to hold two people easily, but it was still only one bed.

“I’ll go talk to Vanth,” Din said quickly, turning on his heel to walk back out, leaving the load of stuff from the speeder right inside the door.

“Good idea,” you mumbled in agreement before he was out the door, nodding slowly, still frozen in place.

The kid patting your arm with one clawed hand was enough to break you from your stupor. “Sorry,” you mumbled, taking and setting him on one of the chairs. “I’ll get you something to eat, hang on.” Digging through one of the bags by the door, you pulled out the first ration pack you found, tearing it open and handing it blindly to the kid. “Here you go.”

You began absently unpacking the bags around the space, just the necessities for the night, and didn’t notice when Din returned some time later, turning to grab one of the last things and almost running into him where he stood directly in your path.

“Woah! Sorry. When did you get here?”

“About five minutes ago.”

“Of course you did.” You sighed. “Well, the kid has had about three ration packs, so he should be ready for actual dinner soon,” you joked.

The kid burped proudly.

“In the meantime, how about we take those empty packets to the edge of town and have a contest.” You arched your eyebrows to try and sell the idea.

He shifted his weight to one leg, hands going to his belt, and you smiled.

“Now that I know what I’m doing, I bet I can beat you.”

“Is that so?”

You leaned in close, whispering, “I’m a fast learner.”

“But a sore loser,” he quipped.

“I am not!” You cried, leaning back away from him.

“Nope. Not at all,” he said sarcastically, turning to walk out the door. You began to follow him but he quickly reminded you in a lazy tone, “Don’t forget the packets.” You went back to grab them, turning back towards the door, barely making it one step before Din added, “And the kid!”

Xxx

Din was trying his hardest to distract you.

So far you’d hit each packet you’d aimed at, and he was quickly starting to be somewhat annoyed at not being the only good shot in the space for once.

And you were loving it.

“Go stand with your back against that building and shoot at it,” he said, pointing at the nearest building on the edge of town, which was still a good distance away. He sat on a short wall, leaning his back up against whatever the structure was behind it, feet propped out in front of him, one ankle crossed loosely over the other.

“If I do, will you admit then that I’m good at this?”

“No,” he didn’t even hesitate, “but I’ll consider it.”

You scoffed, a chuckle following quickly after with a gentle shake of your head, and you stared down at the sand as you kicked at it mindlessly.

“What did that poor sand ever do to you?”

Your head shot up at the voice, and you met the kind but mischievous eyes of Vanth. Planting your feet, you plastered your best smile on your face, the one that earned you lots of tips back at the bar, and laughed lightly. “Oh, nothing. Just showing it who’s boss.”

He returned the laugh. “I’ll say. But, and this is just a shot in the dark, mind you, but I think you might be outnumbered here…. Just a bit.” He gestured to the wide open expanses of sand all around with a smirk, and this time your chuckle was genuine.

“You have a point.”

You turned to look at Din, who had been silent this whole time, and found him exactly where you’d left him, only now his body posture wasn’t as relaxed as it had been. Now he looked stiff, his hand resting on his blaster casually, the other on his belt lazily, and yet it all screamed that he was ready to pounce.

“Need something?” Din finally spoke, addressing Vanth, his tone cold, and you almost shivered at the sound despite being on one of the hottest planets you knew of.

Narrowing his eyebrows for just the briefest of seconds, Vanth recovered quickly, his face a mask of pleasantness. “Oh yeah. I brought a cot by the hut, left it leaning against the front by the door. Sorry about the mix up. I guess I just assumed, well, I guess we all did since I didn’t give them specifics to set it up….” He was smirking again.

You looked down at the sand again before lifting your gaze back up to meet his. “It’s fine. Sorry we weren’t more clear. Thank you for accommodating us.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said smoothly, sending you an easy grin before turning and making his way back into town.

You looked at Din and saw his hand still resting on his blaster, grip tighter than before, fingers rolling in an itch to draw it. His visor was turned to watch Vanth walk away.

“Hey. You in the beskar.” He turned his head to look at you, tilted to the side in question. “No, the multiple other people in beskar- yes you!” His head rolled to the other side, this tilt one of annoyance. “Eyes over here. You don’t want to miss me make another epic shot, do you?”

“‘Another’?” He asked, his hand lowering off his blaster to rest on his thigh easily. “Did I miss something?”

You repeated his words in a ridiculous voice, earning you a chuckle from him. “Just shut up and watch,” you said, taking aim.

“Give me something to watch, then,” he said quietly, teasingly.

“Oh, I’ll give you something to watch,” you mumble somewhat bitterly.

“I’m watching,” he said so quietly, you’re almost certain you imagined it.

Xxx

You were drained from shooting, again, but it was better than the day before. You knew how to apply it better now, and while it still tired you out quickly, you didn’t pass out on the range. The rest of the evening you had gone through the motions, eating, getting ready for bed, and you were ready to sleep when your head hit the pillow, but for some reason, it wouldn’t come.

Tossing and turning, you finally let out a huff, staring at the wall. You couldn’t really see much, there were no windows in this house, but there were a few vents for airflow near the ceiling, and a few slivers of moonlight trickled in. Enough to give you the illusion of shadows around the space, not really seeing anything.

Rolling to your other side, you whispered, “Din?”

“Yes, mesh’la?” His voice was full volume, obviously not asleep, and only a few feet away from you on the cot Vanth had provided. He sounded amused, but there was also something funny about his voice you couldn’t quite place.

You spoke normally. “Oh, you’re up. Good.” Before you could continue, he snorted out a laugh, and it turned into warm chuckles, making you smile yourself before continuing. “I left my pillow back on the Razor Crest. I didn’t want to take up room, and I figured I’d get tired enough….” You sighed.

“Actually, I-” Din began, but you interrupted him.

“No, let me finish, please. But, it’s just not working. I can’t sleep.” You ran your hands through your hair in exasperation. Just ask. “Last night I slept really well, and it’s not just because of using the Force. It’s knocked me out before, and it’s never been that restful. I think…. I think being next to a living breathing body helped the most, more than any pillow,” you chuckled softly, nervous.

“So what are you saying?”

You scoffed. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He was silent, so you went on. “Oh, will you please just come get in this bed with me? So we can both sleep? Surely that cot isn’t that comfortable. And I know you didn’t sleep much last night.”

He doesn’t say anything again, and you’re about to add to your argument when a body suddenly slides in next to you.

“How do you do that?!” You hiss, making him chuckle.

“Lots of practice,” he mumbles, and you both eased back down under the light covers.

Your shoulders brushed one another’s lightly, much like when you had sat by the fire the night before.

“Your voice sounds kind of funny, is your modulator broken?” You teased.

He was silent again, and you darted your eyes around the room absently. They caught on a slip of moonlight glinting off of something metallic over by the cot. Focusing on the object, you realized it was his helmet.

“Oh my- You- That’s- Why didn’t you tell me?!” You snapped your eyes shut tightly, frozen for a moment before rolling over quickly to put your back to him, hands coming up over your eyes just to make sure you didn’t see anything.

He chuckled again, and you felt your stomach do something stupid at the sound. “It’s dark enough in here, I’m not worried about it. Especially over here away from the vents. I trust you.”

Reaching out you patted down his arm behind you, feeling the rest of his armor. “Thank you. But isn’t it uncomfortable to leave all that on?” You brought your hand back over your eye.

“There’s a kryat dragon nearby, I’m not taking off anything else.”

“Fair enough,” you countered, dropping your hands and opening your eyes to stare at the wall once again. A few minutes passed, and you couldn’t quiet your mind, but you quieted your voice. “Din?”

“Yes?”

“I have a question.”

He grunted in response. “I may have an answer.”

You chuckled, then winced. “It’s awkward.”

“I may have an awkward answer.”

You took a deep breath, then let it out. “Fine. If all Mandalorian’s wear helmets and can’t take them off, how do they…. Ya know….”

“…..I need more to go on than that,” he said after a moment.

“How do Mandalorian’s kiss,” you mumbled, slightly turning your face into the pillow underneath you, hoping it would swallow the question.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat the-”

“Oh, you heard me,” you bit back, rolling your head to look up at the ceiling, scoffing at his deep laugh and ignoring the way it made your stomach do flips.

“It’s simple, really. It’s called the Keldabe kiss. It's basically where you press your forehead to the other person’s. It’s a sweeter, gentler form of a headbutt,” he began to chuckle again before continuing, “which-”

“Wait, you did that last night before I fell asleep.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Din stopped talking. He wouldn’t respond.

“I was almost asleep, but I know what happened, you put your forehead on mine and told me to sleep.” No response. “Din?” You couldn’t even hear him breathing. “Din, why didn’t-” you went to roll over and face him, but before you could make it very far, he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest, and held you tight.

You stared at the wall, beginning to get sick of the sight of it, but it looked glorious compared to what you almost did. “I’m sorry,” you said barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s dark enough and you’re not worried about it, but I didn’t mean to. I- I know better. I’ve known you long enough, I shouldn’t have-”

“If I tell you what cyar'ika means, will you stop asking questions?” His voice, unprocessed and low was right by your ear, and you could honestly say you’d never heard a better sound in your life. His breath was warm against your skin, moving from your ear down your neck just slightly, his nose bumping against the shell of your ear before he adjusted to create just enough space between you. Just enough to drive you insane.

The arm over your abdomen cinched tighter, and you realized he wasn’t wearing his gloves, either. His fingers lightly traced over your forearm, absent patterns and mindless messages. They froze when you didn’t answer after a moment, his hand pressing flat against your skin, still feather light. The other arm was under your neck, wrapped back around your torso, holding you close, his hand doing the same on your other arm.

“For now,” you finally said, your voice still a low whisper, but you still managed a smile, hearing him let out a huff of laughter as well, his warm breath once again tickling your skin.

You both sat in silence again, and you were becoming infuriated when he finally said, “Goodnight, cyar'ika.”

You were about to turn around in his grip - your eyes closed this time - and let him have it when he held you tight in his arms, keeping you still, and whispered with a smile, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Stilling in his arms, you smiled to yourself. “Goodnight, Din.”

Xxx

When you woke the next morning, you were greeted with the wall you had become familiar with the night before. Much the same as the day before, everything was still painted in twilight hues, faint strips of sunlight barely streaming through the vents, leaving the room just on the brighter side of shadows.

You smiled as you realized, just like the morning before, you were also still in Din’s arms. His soft breaths at the nape of your neck making the hairs there tickle your skin. His warm hands firmly held you tightly to him. You’d slept the best you had slept in a long time, but even if you hadn’t, this was something you could get used to, you thought. You could even become a morning person, if this is what they looked like.

Din stirred awake behind you, groaning softly when he came more fully to.

“Good morning,” you said softly, smiling at the wall as the room grew brighter.

Turning his face into the pillow below him, he muttered back a muffled, “Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” You asked after a minute.

Turning his face back out of the pillow, he nodded, his nose just barely brushing the back of your head with the motion. “Actually, yes.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I usually don’t sleep well unless I’m on my ship. Downside of being a hunter, I guess. Always keeping an eye out.”

“Sleeping with one eye open?”

“Pretty much.” He adjusted his hold on you, not loosening his grip at all. “Well, I guess we need to start the day. Vanth will be here soon.”

Your stomach dropped at the thought of leaving the little bubble you’d found yourself in. As much as you’d loathed looking at that wall last night, now you loved it. Because it meant you were still here, in this moment, and could put off the world a little longer.

With a sigh, he reluctantly released you from his hold, taking a few steps before you heard his helmet seal with a hiss. He let out a modulated chuckle. “I think the kid slept well, too.”

Narrowing your eyebrows in question, you rolled over, finding him pulling on his gloves, pointing one finger toward the cot when he noticed your confusion. Rising up onto your elbow, you looked over at the cot, and smiled widely, covering your mouth with one hand to conceal the chuckle that spilled out.

The kid had somehow made his way onto the cot during the night, amassed the blankets into a giant swirl of a cocoon, and was swaddled into the middle of the fluffy mountain, contented little breaths leaving him as he slept.

“I have a confession to make.” He sounded hesitant, and you took a moment before looking away from the kid.

You looked to Din with a neutral expression. “Yeah?” Your voice squeaked out, and you narrowed your eyebrows at the sound. Really?

“I saw you leave your pillow on the Crest, and I brought it.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, eyes darting around the room in thought.

“I was going to tell you last night, but you said to let you talk, and I- I just didn’t.”

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. “Thanks, for um, for thinking of that. I appreciate it.” You looked at him, smiling, deciding to deal with what that meant later. “If for some reason I can’t find my new Mandalorian pillow, I will definitely need it.”

“Your Mandalorian pillow?” His tone was incredulous.

“Yes, it’s very soft, and I’ve gotten the best nights sleep with it. Highly recommend.”

He simply stared at you for a few seconds before tugging his gloves up needlessly, scooping up the child while his visor stayed on you, and turning towards the main room of the small hut, gaze staying on you until the last possible second at the doorway, and he was forced to look forward, gently shaking his head and muttering, “Highly recommend….” in disbelief.

You snickered, rising from the bed and stretching with a small groan, pausing when you heard him continue to mutter in the other room.

“Damn right, you highly recommend….”

You laughed loudly, going about getting ready for the journey.

Xxx

“I want you to drive,” Din said, cinching in some supplies on the back of the speeder, not looking up from his task.

You paused where you were across from him, getting the child settled into his satchel seat, eyes searching the top of his helmet in shock. “Um, okay.” You looked down to the child for a moment absently before looking back up to find his visor already on you. “I thought my driving still terrified you.” It was a statement, not a question. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smirk remembering his hesitance the day before.

“You’ll never learn if you don’t try, and I want to keep my hands free in case we run into trouble.”

You nodded once, eyes cast down on the speeder in unexpected apprehension.

His hand on your arm brought your gaze back to his. “You’ll be fine.”

The kid let out a squeak of agreement, both of you looking at him and letting out a chuckle.

“Now I’m not trying to stick my nose in, or anything, but are you sure it’s best she and the kid tag along? This may not be the safest trip.” Vanth was sidling up to his speeder, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he asked. He fiddled with his fingers as he spoke. “Not expecting it to be particularly dangerous, either, but, you know what I mean….”

“Wherever I go, they go,” Din said with a nod.

Vanth gave a nod back, a tight smile on his face, then he climbed on his speeder, starting the engine.

You climbed on first, getting your goggles adjusted as Din slid in behind you. One of his hands rested on his thigh comfortably, the other wrapped around your waist.

You’re reminded of the night before. You’d take staring at that blank wall again over the wide open fields of sand in front of you if it meant you could feel his breath on your neck again. His nose brushing against your hair. His voice….

Tightening your grip on the handlebars, you started the speeder. Turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, you smirked as you parroted back what he had said in Peli’s hanger before taking off two days ago. “Hold on.”

He tightened his grip around your waist, and let out a huff of laughter. “Plenty of room,” he teased, earning a scoff from you before you took off to catch up to Vanth.

His grip didn’t let up the whole ride.

Not that you minded.

Xxx

Tags: @ren-ni​, @hoodedbirdie​, @rennalouise,​ @kurlyfrasier​, @what-the-heckin-heck​, @deceiverofgodss, @Littleshadow1, @nghtwngs,​ @yourcoolauntie​, @queenmalhinewahine​, @lam-ila​, @jesseeka​, @come-hell-or-eldren-fire,​ @creativeautistic​ What’s This?

[queridopascal]

thigh riding

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warning: 18+, explicit content, SMUT, a crumb of praise kink, thigh riding, helmet riding, face sitting, oral (f receiving)

KINKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST

A/N: okay guys, this is probably the most perverse thing I’ve written so far, courtesy of the lovely anon who sent a spicy thot about riding Din’s helmet. Enjoy!

It’s quiet on the Razor Crest, almost too quiet.

Din is asleep in his bunk, with Grogu curled up on his beskar-covered chest, snoring peacefully; the rhythm of Din’s breaths probably lulled The Child to sleep, and the occasional subtle movements of The Mandalorian don’t wake him up. You can’t help but smile at that image, the pure love that it exudes, and the strength of their unbreakable bond makes tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

You dream of giving Din a child of your own someday, a little boy perhaps, with his features and his temper, and hope that he and The Child will become fast friends, brothers even.

Slowly and careful not to make any noise, you lift Grogu from Din’s chest and cradle him in your arms; he gurgles a couple of times, but luckily stays asleep until you walk over to his cot and gently lay him down.

Once you return to the bunk, Din is still in the same position as you left him, laying on his back with one hand on his thigh and the other extended towards his left, dangling down the edge of the mattress.

You take a moment to admire how beautiful he is as your eyes rake over his broad form, from his shoulders, to his chest, descending to his narrower waist before settling onto his thighs, strong and muscular, and your mouth waters at the thought of feeling their heat under your palms.

The voice in your head is screaming at you, telling you to go for it since Grogu is now in his crib, but you feel guilty and almost ashamed of waking Din up just to have some fun, especially knowing he’s had a tough day and that his rest is well earned.

Driven by an inexplicable will, you remove your underwear and walk over to him, stopping at the foot of the bed; you begin by slowly taking off his boots, then you gently lift his legs a little, one by one, and remove his shin, knee and thigh plates.

When the pieces are no longer in your way, you make your way up his body and caress his lower abdomen for a moment before sliding his pants off from his hips and down his legs, until they’re discarded onto the floor with all the other protections.

You duck your head a little and place a small kiss to the inside of his right thigh; your lips are soft against his warm skin while you graze his other thigh with your fingertips, and you swear you see his cock twitch for a fraction of a second.

Din mumbles something incoherent from under his helmet, and he tilts his head down, the black T visor perfectly leveled with your eyes.

Smirking, you kiss his other thigh when your hand cups him through his boxes, and he sighs heavily, bucking his hips a little and spreading his legs wider for you.

“Cyar’ika,” he murmurs, voice strained from your teasing, but you pay it no mind, even if you notice out of the corner of your eye that his cock is growing harder.

“I love your thighs, Din.” you whisper, “So thick and so strong.” you add as you move to the side and straddle his left thigh, feeling the muscle flex as soon as your wet pussy makes contact with it.

“And now,” you start to move, slowly at first, “I’m gonna use your thigh, gonna ride it until I come.”

Din nods wordlessly, keeping his thigh flexed and muscle hard for you to enjoy; the moment you increase your pace, you let out a moan for the delicious friction and the mind blowing stimulation provided by the soft hairs of his thigh, catching just right against your clit.

“F-feels s-so good.” you whimper as one of your hands finds leverage on his chest whilst the other comes up to cover your mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle your moans.

You try to grind harder, but your legs are already aching and quivering, so he reaches out to grab your hips and helps you move, back and forth, guiding you along his thigh and cursing at the feel and sight of your wetness covering his skin.

“Faster!” your hushed command reaches his helmet-covered ears, and Din complies, pushing you down onto his thigh and sliding you from just above his knee up towards the dip of his groin.

The moment you reach your peak, your whole body spasms as if electricity had passed through it, and Din, still untouched where he needed you most, comes too with a choked groan of your name as you let yourself fall on top of him.

He wraps his arms around you and tucks your head under his helmet until you both return to an even breathing pattern.

“I am sorry,” you murmur against his chest plate, “I shouldn’t have ignored you. Let me make it up to you.” you add, stirring a little in his arms in an attempt to sit up and help him properly, but he keeps your body pressed against his.

“It’s fine mesh’la,” he reassures you calmly, “no need to make up for anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” he sighs, “Unless you’re not done with me yet…”

You tilt your head up a little, catching a glimpse of your curious gaze in his visor. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” you hear him swallow, “...unless you want to try something else.” he says, removing one of his hands from your back and pointing at his helmet, right where the bridge of his nose would be.

“I-I…” you stutter, your cheeks suddenly growing hotter at the implication.

Moments later, you’re riding his helmet, grinding your pussy back and forth on the metal, all the while spreading your wetness all over his visor. He can see it all from underneath it: the way your cunt’s lips open up with each one of your slides, how your clit gets even more exposed when you move backwards, and how he sees your skin tremble when it catches right where the beskar ends and the visor begins.

“Din! I’m gonna-” your cry is covered by the hand clamped over your mouth, and before you can even realize it, Din lifts you from his head with one of his hands and tears his helmet off with the other, throwing it to the side until it tumbles onto the floor, hoping the noise won’t wake up The Child.

With his gloved hands now cupping your ass, he lowers you down onto his mouth and latches his lips around your throbbing clit, sucking on it and occasionally flicking it with his tongue. Your hands fly in his hair, fingers tugging desperately at his brown locks as you ride his face and bump your clit on the hook of his nose, worried you might break it.

Within seconds, Din pulls an earth shattering orgasm out of you: his tongue keeps lapping at you as your juices drip down into his mouth and onto his chin, and he moans at their sweet taste as he practically drinks them out of you.

“You taste so good, Cyar’ika.” he says as he smacks his lips and cleans his chin with the back of his gloved hand.

Moaning softly at his words, you slide backwards until your core rests on his chest plate and lean down to kiss him, savoring the taste of your ecstasy from his mouth. The kiss deepens, and you gasp with surprise when he rolls you over to the side and cages your body in between his arms.

You look up at him when your mouths part, and by the feral look in his eyes, you know he’s now the one who’s definitely not done with you.

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @theorganasolo @pazizz @beskarboobs @lovesbiggerthanpride @randomness501 @din-jarhead @pedritoispunk @thewineandthewomen @phoenixhalliwell @thisisthewayyy @danniburgh @softboidjarin @0callme-mimi @prideandpascal @destiny-tsukino @randeerenae @candywh0r3 @janebby @fastandfeminist @spanishmossmagnolia @dopeqff @amneris21 @mandosmistress @dihra-vesa @jaime1110 @agos-505 @prettylilhalforc @stardust-galaxies @c4psicle @lavenderluna10 @i-m-sherlocked-twice @goldielocks2004 @evyiione @xgoldenjenny @fanficmybeloved @omlwhatamidoinghere @beskarprincessjenny

[psalmsofpsychosis]

okay, so. *taps the megaphone to see if it's working, and then takes a breath and holds it to her mouth*

Din Djarin has to bath completely naked in the waters under the mandalorian mines or the mandalorian plot wont work.

i just want to see pedro pascal's [redacted] here is the thing: a lot of different subtle themes are explored throughout The Mandalorian (2019–), and you'd think that like most star wars stories created before it, The Mandalorian is about acts of heroism and bizarre adventures and displays of [almost] otherworldly power. Except that it's not.

The show introduces you to a fiesty bamf main character and yet it barely capitalises on his power at all. What it builds upon instead, is Din's relationship to concealing and revealing.

Mask and Reveal is the central theme of The Mandalorian, starting from the mandalorians' obsession with staying hidden and defining protection in cover first, power second. It's established very early in the story that a Mandalorian's, and by extension Din's means of concealment (his helmet) is a top priority, by the end of season 1 we know that it comes before his life. Din finds grogu the way Mandalorians found him: a child hiding out of fear, being found by safe hands. Grogu has concealed his powers for a very long time, and he learns to reveal them and let himself be seen both by Din and by Luke. 

The underlying narrative of this show starts as masks meaning protection and a cherished idea of safety. Gradually as the story keeps trying Din Djarin down to every last one of his fragile nerves though, we get to see him risking psychological/emotional/physical reveal and the shame and fear and grief that comes with it, followed by the healing and purpose after. Din Djarin has a trauma to face and it revolves around concealment from himself, his thoughts, and the world around him: his story arc necessitates nakedness and vulnerability as part of his path to healing. And by the time we arrive at The Book Of Boba Fett episode 5, he's halfway bare to himself and to anyone who cares to look at him more than 5 seconds: Ahsoka knows his intentions behind visiting grogu, Cobb makes a sarcastic remark about his "smile", Boba knows him like the back of his hand, and grogu knows him too.

Din has 99 shields and roughly 98 of them are about his armour and his ideas around the armour defining him and his mindset and his beliefs. It literally would not make any sense if Din Djarin bathes in the water under the mandalorian mines in armour.